


Bulwark

by BHP



Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BHP/pseuds/BHP
Summary: TC is in the hospital - but he's handcuffed to the bed?
Comments: 51
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: All the usual disclaimers apply – I don’t own the show or the characters, only the words on this page. As always, I’d love to hear what you think.
> 
> This is set about two weeks after ‘Oversight’, and it refers to both the screened season 1 episodes and my other stories. The time-based format is a bit of a departure for me, and I hope it works.

Thursday, 6 June  
04:10

Owen Milford could almost taste the coffee.

He wished he could smell coffee, but at the moment, the only obvious smells were the sharp tang of antiseptic, the copper scent of blood and various other bodily fluids that he really didn’t want to name. Or think about in any great detail.

Well, that’s what he got for working a night shift in the ER. His wife thought he was crazy to do one night every week, but had long since accepted the fact that she wasn’t going to change his mind on it being a valuable way to keep his skills sharp.

Just as he accepted that she was never going to give up her weekly crafting classes at the local recreation centre. He didn’t need pottery mugs and crocheted coasters to place under those mugs, but it made her happy. Which was how they’d stayed married and content for so many years.

And it had been an interesting night.

Unpredictable.

And he enjoyed that unpredictability, the need to think on his feet and make quick decisions, that the ER shift provided.

There’d been the high school student who’d done a somersault over the handlebars of his bicycle on a sharp down-hill turn – he’d broken his nose and arm, but was only concerned about how the injuries would increase his social standing with the pretty cheerleader that he wanted to ask on a date.

Then there’d been the guy in his mid-twenties, who been drag racing on the coastal highway. The only problem was, he’d been competing with his own hallucinations and had managed to wrap his car around a light pole. He’d been so high on his own personal concoction of street drugs that he hadn’t even broken a single bone. More importantly, he’d not injured anyone else, either.

Shift change was at six, and with just under two hours to go, Milford now expected this shift to end quietly.

Then the sharp blare of an ambulance siren cut through the brightly-lit room, and a young nurse shot past him towards the doors.

“Doctor Milford. Incoming!”

“What have we got?” He moved quickly to follow the nurse, recognising her voice and the curtain of black hair swinging forward as she turned her head.

“Radio said helicopter crash. Reported by a motorist who saw it happen. Out near Sand Island. One victim.” The nurse glanced back at him, and Milford smiled at her.

“Anything else, Annie?”

“Not yet.” She lifted one shoulder a fraction. “But Hanale didn’t sound like it was life or death.”

“Good to know.”

Hanale was an experienced paramedic, one of the best in Honolulu, and Annie trusted his judgement. So Milford could trust it as well.

He relaxed a fraction, mentally running through possible scenarios. Helicopter crashes were very often fatal, so the fact that this victim was even still alive was a positive point. He could expect multiple broken bones, most likely a head injury of some sort, and no doubt copious amounts of blood.

“Although, Hanale did say the police are following them in. No idea why, but he heard them say something about arresting the victim. No ID on who that is.” Annie sounded puzzled.

Milford wondered about it for a moment, then focused all his attention on the ambulance now backing into the bay outside the doors.

The sky outside was still midnight dark, stars bright, although Milford thought he could see a faint tinge of brighter light on the eastern horizon. Wishful thinking, maybe.

Moments later, the sliding doors squealed open, a gurney rolling through at speed.

His first impression was one of bulk. The man on the gurney appeared to be tall, strongly built, and lying very still. Equipment was balanced between his jean-clad legs and a breathing mask covered most of his face. The rest of his face was slicked with blood, some of which had run down his neck and soaked the neck and shoulder of the man’s patterned shirt.

Milford patted himself on the back for predicting both a bleeding head wound and large amounts of blood.

He could hear Annie taking in the details provided by Hanale, taking the important details in himself without conscious thought. Then the patient had been transferred to the hospital bed, the ambulance crew had headed back outside, and he stepped forward to start his detailed examination.

Annie gasped.

For a second, it was as if the whole ER had been muted. Sound faded and time seemed to slow.

Then things snapped back into focus, details sharp and clear.

The police might not know who this man was. He might have no ID on him.

But Milford knew who he was. Annie knew who he was.

They’d both seen this man before. Camped out next to various hospital beds just a few floors above this ER. Spending the night next to his friends. Keeping demons at bay. Drinking bad coffee without complaint. Riding herd on people who kept trying to leave the hospital before they were healed enough. And according to Annie, when he thought no-one was listening, singing quietly in a voice that she would pay to hear again.

He didn’t know why the police would want to arrest this man, but whatever they might think he’d done, they were mistaken.

He didn’t even need to ask. There was simply no question at all in his mind.

He looked up and saw the same realisation on Annie’s face. The sound of a police siren cut off outside the ER, and Milford made a split-second decision, guided by well-honed instincts.

Seconds before the door opened again, and a police officer came towards them, he spoke to Annie.

“We don’t know who this is.” He kept his voice low.

Annie nodded once, expression troubled, and he could see that she shared his reservations and concerns about the whole situation. But she would follow his lead.

Because there was no way this man was a criminal. No matter what the police thought, or what evidence they had.

He looked down at the unconscious man again. Took in the bruises on his face, the signs of restraints on the man’s wrists, the unnatural twist of the right elbow.

Then he looked up at the face again, past the mask of blood to take in the lax features.

The features of one Theodore Calvin. Known to his friends as TC.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Thursday  
Dawn, 05:24

Everything hurt.

His head throbbed, a dull drumbeat of relentless pain. His elbow was a sharp, jagged slice of agony. His whole body felt bruised and battered. And his wrists burned, a minor but annoying pain.

All things considered, he’d felt worse. Physically, at least. Emotionally, he wasn’t so sure.

TC was surprised that he was still alive.

He’d actually hoped that the crash would be fatal. For him – and his passengers.

He’d done his best to ensure a fatal end to the flight. But he’d failed.

He needed to know where he was before he let on that he was conscious.

He kept his eyes shut, his face expressionless. He listened, knowing that he would never hear the tiny sounds that Rick and TM always seemed to pick up with ease. No matter how hard he tried, he’d never managed to figure out how they heard all the things they did.

But he didn’t have to try very hard to hear the repetitive beeping near his head.

Heart monitor. Hospital.

Damn.

If he’d survived, then his passengers probably had as well. That was really not good.

He strained to hear past the machine’s tone, sure that he wasn’t alone. The feeling of being watched wasn’t something you forgot easily. After those hideous eighteen months, it had taken him weeks to stop checking for surveillance. And even longer to believe that he truly wasn’t being observed all the time.

But this time, he wasn’t mistaken.

This particular feeling wasn’t one he’d ever forget.

He suppressed the instinctive twitch when he heard the door swing open, followed by quiet footsteps entering the room.

The conversation was quiet, but clear.

“I told you to wait outside.” TC recognised the voice from other occasions over the course of the last year. Doc Milford. Who was clearly unhappy about something.

“He’s my prisoner.” The tone bordered on arrogant.

A young man, TC thought. Eager to impress his superiors.

“And I’m his doctor.” Milford’s tone had gone cold. “And if you ever want to speak to him, you’ll do as I say.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” TC wanted to laugh, but held himself back. The younger man didn’t realise that he’d already lost this battle.

“No, indeed.” Milford agreed placidly. “You don’t.” Then his tone changed, hardened. “But this is my hospital and my patient. My rules. I’m sure the hospital administrator will be more than willing to take this up with your commanding officer.”

The silence grew thick, then TC heard the shuffle of feet.

“He’s under arrest for multiple felonies. Burglary, assault, maybe more depending on whether that security guard lives.”

“I’m aware. But as you’ve already handcuffed him to the bed, it’s not like he’s going anywhere.” Milford’s ever-so-reasonable tone almost broke TC’s control. “As soon as I’m sure he’s stable, you can speak to him.”

Moments later, reluctant footsteps faded away and the door swung shut.

“TC.” Milford spoke again. “I know you’re awake. We’re alone now, so you may as well open your eyes. Annie has the blinds down.”

TC eased his eyes open, the surge in brightness making him cringe. Slowly, he grew accustomed to the dim light, and managed to focus on Doc Milford and Annie.

“Hey, Doc. Annie.” TC kept his voice low, hoping not to attract the attention of the officer who’d just left the room.

“Well, that answers a few questions for me. You know who we are, you clearly know who you are.” Milford sounded pleased. “So that’s a yes on the concussion, but a no on the major brain damage.”

TC couldn’t help the chuckle. But he had other concerns right now.

“Where are the other guys, Doc?” Urgency filled the question.

“What other guys?” Annie cut in. “You were the only person at the crash site.”

“No. Oh, damn it.” TC tried to move, only to find his left wrist handcuffed to the bed rail. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Don’t move.” Annie laid a hand on his arm. “You’ll only make things worse.”

TC heard the rustle of the hospital gown he now wore, and wondered fleetingly what had become of his clothes. What he would wear if he could find a way out of the hospital.

“I suppose you’re like your friends,” Milford sighed, “and aren’t even going to ask how you are. So let me fill you in. You have a concussion, surprisingly mild, I’d say. A nasty cut on the side of your face, which we’ve done some very fine needle work on, if I say so myself. A lot of bruising. A dislocated right elbow, which we’ve reduced for you – please note that brace and don’t even think about taking it off.”

TC lifted his left shoulder an inch and let it drop. The damage to him didn’t matter; he’d survived worse. Only the fact that his passengers had escaped mattered to him at the moment.

“And, of course, there are those restraint marks on both your wrists.” Milord’s mild statement was a question, and TC chose not to answer it.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Milford asked.

TC held firm and shook his head.

“Would you like us to call your friends? Let them know what happened, where you are?”

“No.” TC couldn’t get the word out fast enough. “Please, no.”

“They’d want to know. I’m sure they would.” Annie tried to convince him.

“Are you sure?” Milford tried again.

“No. Don’t call them. You can’t tell them.” TC couldn’t say more than that.

“Interesting word choices. Whatever’s going on here has something to do with them.”

TC hated the speculative look on Milford’s face. TM had said that the man was too observant, had too much insight into his patients. Looked like Magnum had been right again.

“Maybe you can tell me this, instead.” TC couldn’t hide as Milford met his eyes directly, couldn’t turn his head away from the open concern. “Why does that police officer think you took part in a robbery?

“Because I did.” It cost him, but TC managed to keep his tone even. Unconcerned. Emotionless.

He wasn’t prepared for Milford to laugh at him.

“I’m no expert on criminals, but I’d bet my medical licence that you’re not one. So why would you say that you are?”

TC felt his left fist clench, but kept his face expressionless.

His passengers would come looking for him. He was sure of that, just as he was sure that silence was the only weapon and defence he had left.

As long as he said nothing, things would be okay. At least, he could hope so.

He could handle whatever happened to him. He knew that. He’d done it before, after all. And there was nothing that anyone here could do to him, that would be as bad as what he’d already been through. No prison in Hawaii could be as bad as the POW camp he’d already survived. After all, prisons had decent food, clean water, actual beds and medical care.

“We haven’t told him who you are.” Annie whispered, nodding towards the door. “And we’re not going to. Not until you say we can.”

“You have your reasons for what you say you did.” TC felt the weight of Milford’s stare, as the older man gave him a considering look, then nodded. “And we both have ours for doing this.”

The support and belief on both their faces almost broke TC’s resolve. But he had his friends to think of, to protect. They came first. Always.

So he looked at Doc Milford and Annie one last time, then deliberately shut his eyes and turned his head away.

MPI-MPI-MPI


	2. Chapter 2

One week earlier  
Friday, 31 May  
Dawn, 05:25

It was a good day to be alive.

The sun was shining brightly on the coastal road, spilling golden light over the dark grey road and the bright green plants along the verge. The sky was a clear pale turquoise, with a hint of white clouds on the horizon. Picture perfect.

An artist’s dream.

TC took it all in with a happy sigh, and a broad smile. Rick might tease him about art school, but he thought sometimes that it helped him to appreciate the beauty all around him. 

He’d even managed to find beauty in the menacing mountain ranges of the Korengal. The patterns of the rocks, the colours, the interplay of shadow and light; it was beautiful in an austere and restrained way. Pity he couldn’t say that about much else in the country.

The road was still deserted, and TC was glad he’d left Robin’s Nest just after dawn. It would give him time to settle himself in for a day filled with tours and paperwork. He liked to be calm when he started any official paperwork, because almost every piece of required paperwork seemed to be designed to create a feeling of stupidity coupled with intense worry.

But at least he was no longer filled with worry about Rick and Magnum.

Rick’s visit to Clyde two days earlier had been the turning point for all of them. As he had hoped it would be, when he’d suggested that Rick visit the shooting range.

The tension caused by Magnum getting shot protecting Zeus and Apollo had finally been exorcised, along with demons Rick had been hiding and fighting alone for years. Their little family was strong and happy.

Even Higgy was letting down her guard, and allowing herself to fit in, allowing herself to belong to a family that wanted her. That would never turn their backs on her as British Intelligence had done. Idiots, all of them.

And Magnum would be seeing Doc Carlson in a few days to get the all clear for his leg. Which would mean he could stop using the crutches and finally get back in the water. That was going to be a red-letter day for all of them.

Magnum wasn’t a good patient at the best of times. Kept out of the water, he was even more obstinate and infinitely harder to wrangle. Although TC could see how much Magnum had tried to accept his limitations and all the medical restrictions with a good grace this time. Mostly. There had been a few occasions when TC would happily have dropped the other man out of his chopper over the Molokai Channel again.

TC leaned to the side and flipped the radio on, fiddling with the dial until he found a song he liked. His grandma had always said that the Lord liked a joyful noise. He didn’t know about that, but he did know that he loved this song, and he was going to indulge his need to sing along. Hopefully, he would be joyful enough.

He turned the volume up, leaned back and cruised towards the Island Hoppers office. The strains of Ben E King’s ‘Stand by me’ filled the van, and TC beamed broadly as he sang along.

It was a great day to be alive!

MPI-MPI-MPI

Half an hour later, TC made the final turn into the parking area at Island Hoppers. He eased the van into its usual parking spot, set the brake and turned off the engine. Took a moment in the silence to appreciate again just how lucky he was.

Alive. With good friends. Healthy, for the most part. Then he looked at the office building and his smile grew even wider.

He could see a light on in the office, meaning that Shammy had made it to the office before him again. That had been happening quite often since the shooting, as TC was still spending a lot of time at the estate.

But Shammy being at the office already also meant that there would be decent coffee ready when he walked in the door. If he had the money, he’d pay Shammy double just for making the coffee every morning. TC knew himself well enough to know that he loved good coffee, but he hated taking the time to make it. Shammy, on the other hand, was willing to put in the time required.

The back of his neck tingled suddenly.

He was being watched. Observed. Tracked.

TC felt the cold shudder run down his back, and flinched ever-so-slightly.

No. Today was a good day. He was not going to let paranoia get the best of him.

But he couldn’t help himself. He checked out the parking area in front of him. No cars, no people loitering near the fence.

He checked the mirrors of the van, feeling like an idiot even as he did it. Nothing behind him. No cars moving in from his blind spots.

He stepped out of the van and turned to look at the road going past his office.

A single vehicle. Chevy Suburban. Black, tinted windows.

He took one step towards the road, wanting to get a better look. But the vehicle never even slowed, passing slowly and turning at the next corner, taking the road towards downtown Honolulu.

TC stared after it for a full minute, trying to pick apart the feelings running through him. Concern, sure. Worry, maybe. Fear. He hated to admit it, but under everything, there was just a nagging hint of fear.

He took a deep breath and let it out, counting to five on the inhale and the exhale. Did it again, then a third time. He was not going to do this today.

It was all Rick’s fault. He’d made that comment about the CIA cars waiting at the airport when they’d returned from Myanmar. Just because a car was black and had tinted windows, did not mean that it was being driven by someone who meant him harm. No matter what his previous experiences might push him towards believing.

Since the Korengal, he’d worked hard on not letting the paranoia drive his actions. After their escape, it had taken weeks for him to accept that he wasn’t being watched all the time. That no-one would hurt him, or his friends, if he disobeyed. If he went outside without permission. If he refused to eat what they put in front of him. If he raised his voice and argued with them. If he let his emotions get the better of him.

He’d learned to drop the blank expression he’d perfected in the camp. Much to the relief of his friends.

He’d had no other way to fight back, there in the camp, so he’d chosen not to let them see how much they hurt him. The lack of reaction had really irritated them, and deep inside, TC had enjoyed getting the better of them. Even if it had only been for fleeting moments.

The car still hadn’t reappeared. Behind him, he could hear the office door open and the sound of Shammy’s wheelchair rolling through the doorway. Stopping metres behind him. He could feel Shammy watching him. But the sensation was completely different. Not malevolent.

“TC, man.” Shammy’s voice carried to him. “You okay?”

TC gave himself a stern mental shake at his choice of word moments earlier. Malevolent. Really? He was just over-reacting. Understandable, after the last couple of months.

Nothing had changed since he’d left Robin’s Nest this morning. Today was going to be a good day. A great day. And he would start it with a smile, and good coffee.

“Just fine, Shammy.” TC turned around, and headed for the office.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Friday, 31 May  
19:45

By the time he’d landed after his final tour that afternoon, TC had forgotten about the black Suburban and the unpleasant sensations it had brought. Shammy had left much earlier, but a pile of notes lay waiting on his desk. And two new bookings for tours on Monday afternoon. New bookings were always a good thing.

TC sang quietly to himself as he finished the business of his day: updating his calendar of bookings, filing his paperwork, making a note to remind himself to check on the odd sound he’d heard when landing earlier.

The room was quiet and peaceful, well-lit and comfortable. TC glanced around the room and sighed. Maybe the life he’d built here, the family, the business, were never going to be world-famous. But they were solid, good. The foundations of a contented life. He glanced around the room one more time and smiled.

An hour later, he locked up the office and strolled across the lot to the Island Hoppers van. The night was cool, bright stars appearing in the clear sky. He could feel the fading warmth of the day and smell the ocean on the air.

He’d swing by the King Kamehameha Club and check in on Rick. Maybe have something to eat, sit a while and watch the goings-on in the Club. Rick always had an endless supply of stories to tell about strange things that happened at the Club, and TC liked to sit there and see some of the weird things in person. If only to reassure himself that not every story Rick told was an exaggeration. Some stories were completely true, if hard to believe.

He settled himself in the van, keyed the ignition, then hesitated. Had he left that notebook of contact numbers on the passenger seat this morning? Surely, he would have left it in the door pocket, as he usually did? He gave the rest of the van a searching glance. Nothing else seemed odd, or out of place. Shaking his head, he picked up the notebook and dropped it back into the door pocket.

“You’re getting forgetful, TC.” He murmured quietly, then chuckled. “As long as you don’t do that in the air.”

An hour later, he was laughing so hard that he was struggling to breathe. One of Rick’s customers had insisted that his teacup poodle was a service dog, and that it had to sit on a cushion on the chair next to him at the bar. Now, he was so drunk he couldn’t find the dog, which was still calmly sleeping on the cushion. He was wandering up and down the bar, calling for it in a high, sing-song voice that had TC barely hanging on to his composure.

Moments later, Rick had shepherded the guy out the door and into a cab, teacup poodle and cushion safely ensconced on the seat beside him, while the cab driver tried very hard not to laugh.

Life was certainly very good today.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Roger Hull wasn’t a patient man.

Short, balding, slightly overweight, and totally nondescript in every way, he’d had a long and successful career doing undercover work in the Honolulu Police Department. He had the kind of face that people just didn’t remember, coupled with a sharp mind and good instincts which had played in his favour.

Unfortunately, his lack of patience had tended to make him push suspects harder than was wise. Which was how he’d ended up unemployed, dismissed from the police force for repeatedly using excessive force to convince suspects to give him information.

He’d lost his pension, too. Which was how he’d ended up working security at The Waves, down near the beachfront in Honolulu. The upmarket building was home to any number of well-off businesses, enough of them with the sort of influence that allowed the building managers to run their own security force.

But now, he’d devised a plan to make up for the lack of a pension. All he needed was a helicopter, a pilot, a hacker and a safecracker. He’d known just who to call, and just how to get all the equipment he needed. A life in uniform offered a range of contacts, and even now, he still had enough friends on the force to offer criminals deals that would benefit them.

Even without the option of deals, he had enough evidence against each of his chosen three to ensure their extremely eager compliance.

And until last night, everything had been ticking along nicely.

Last night, Simon Tulliver had been arrested for assault. Given the amount of evidence, and the fact that his victim was still in the hospital, there was no chance that Simon was going to make bail.

Which left him short one pilot.

But he had a replacement in his sights. And this time, the man wasn’t even a criminal. He was actually a veteran, instead. Totally above reproach. Unless you had access to police files, as he’d had until the department had fired him.

Theodore Calvin had been involved in a number of incidents over the last year, most of which had been handled by Detective Katsumoto. From those files, Roger had learned that Calvin was a great pilot, but could be prevailed on to bend the rules on occasion. Granted, he’d had believable explanations for everything he’d done, included stealing a police car, and there’d never been any charges filed. And every time Calvin had stretched the rules, his friends had been right there with him.

Calvin would be his replacement pilot. The best kind of replacement, too, as he wouldn’t need to pay the man. With the right leverage in place, he’d bet Calvin would be more than willing to fly for him.

And when everything was over, well – lots of veterans found civilian life difficult to adapt to, and chose to give up the struggle.

He’d followed Calvin to his office this morning, and when Calvin had been out in the chopper, and the guy in the wheelchair had gone out behind the office building, he’d managed to get into Calvin’s van. He’d dug through the things in the van and hit pay dirt. Calvin’s notebook, with all his contacts listed. Interesting reading, especially the page headed ‘Family’ – a short list of pressure points in black ink: Thomas Magnum, Rick Wright, and Sebastian Nuzo, but the latter had a single line through it. No surprise, as he’d read that police report too. In blue ink, no doubt added later, Juliet Higgins. All with contact numbers and addresses. 

Now, he paced the floor of the deserted warehouse on the land adjacent to Sand Island, waiting for Pravin Sandeep and Henri Fontaine to arrive. The hacker and safecracker were both clever men, and Roger fully expected them both to try to renegotiate the deal he’d made with them.

Pity they didn’t realise that they weren’t going to see next month, not after he was finished with them. And he would be carrying out a public service, too, by getting rid of two criminals who regularly preyed on people who were just trying to get by in the world.

Faint voices drew his attention and he stalked towards the open doorway.

“It’s about time you two showed up.”

“Chill.” Henri’s nasal whine immediately set his teeth on edge. The voice was the perfect match for the man’s narrow, weasel-like face. An impression reinforced by the skinny, lanky body clothed in dark brown trousers and jacket. If he hadn’t needed the man so badly, he’d have sent him on his way right now.

Pravin slid in behind Henri, staying in the shadows and making no sound, hiding his eyes behind a long fringe of straight, black hair. Young and well-built, dressed in jeans, t-shirt and sneakers, Pravin could have passed for a university student. On at least one occasion that Hull was aware of, the hacker had done precisely that.

“We don’t have a lot of time left. And you two need to learn to be punctual.” Roger snapped the words out, tone vicious.

“Sorry.” Pravin spoke quietly. “What’s the plan?”

“We have a problem. Simon was arrested last night.” Roger laid out the facts. “I’ve got my eye on a replacement pilot. But we’ll have to move the job to next week. Probably Wednesday night.”

“Then why are we here now?” The nasal question shortened Roger’s control of his temper.

“Because I have a replacement pilot in mind.” Roger smiled slowly. “And because I need you two to do something for me. An errand, of sorts.”

“We’re not your messengers.”

“No, Henri, you’re not. But I am the one paying you both, so you’ll do as I say.”

He could see the mutinous look in the man’s eyes, and knew then that Henri was the one he’d really need to keep an eye on.

He herded the two men to the far side of the warehouse, where four identical objects lay on a table. Pravin realised first what he was looking at, and Roger was gratified to see real fear in the man’s eyes. Pravin might be young, but he was clearly well-informed about fields other than hacking.

“Are those bombs?” The question was faint.

“Yes.” Roger picked up one device and showed it to the men. “I’ve made four of these. What you are going to do, is place them on four vehicles for me. On the chassis, under the driver’s seat. And I want a video of each device being placed. Proof that the devices are securely placed, and that they are on the right vehicles.”

“Why?” Pravin had gone pale. “I told you, I’m not in this to hurt anyone.”

“I’m not planning to hurt anyone.” Roger lied with a straight face. “I just need this in place as … insurance … shall we say.”

“Insurance?”

“Yes, Pravin. Our new pilot may not want to help us.”

“Then find someone else.” Henri’s nasal tone cut in again.

“No. He’s the best option for what we need. The only problem is that guys like him don’t break the law.” Roger laughed then, a chilling sound. “But I think that this guy, with the right persuasion – this guy can be convinced to bend the rules.”

Henri and Pravin exchanged glances, then looked back at him. Both more wary than when they’d first arrived. Good. Fear was a wonderful motivator.

“You have until Tuesday night to get this done. I need the videos by Wednesday morning at the latest.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then, Pravin, you and Henri are going back to jail. I have evidence that can get you both a one-way ticket to Halawa.” Roger stared them both down. “And that evidence will miraculously appear on a desk at the police department. So I suggest you do as I say.”

Five minutes later, Pravin and Henri left the warehouse. They took with them a duffle bag carrying all four devices, and a detailed list of names, addresses and vehicles.

Roger watched them go, a cold smile on his face. Just one more week, and he’d have money enough to buy himself a wonderful retirement, in a country with no extradition treaty.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Wednesday, 5 June  
Just after sunset, 19:35

TC flared the chopper with a bit more showboating than the manoeuvre required, but it always impressed the clients. Moments later, he settled the chopper gently onto the tarmac, and shut down the engine. While the blades whirled slowly overhead, lazily slowing to a halt, he hopped out and went around the front of the chopper to let his passengers out.

Sunset flights were always a great way to end a day, and this young couple were the perfect pair to take up on his last tour of the day. Recently engaged and busy planning an autumn wedding, Sam and Bonnie had loved every moment of the trip. Their happiness was infectious and TC found himself smiling broadly as he let them out.

They clung to each other as they walked to their car, and TC offered up a silent wish that they would have a long and happy life together.

Minutes later, silence settled over the lot. The light was fading quickly now, the temperature dropping at the same time. A sudden gust of wind pressed his Island Hoppers shirt tightly against his back.

TC swung himself back into the chopper to finish up his post-flight checklist, marking things off quickly and efficiently.

Shammy had left for the day when TC had taken Bonnie and Sam up for their tour, and the office was dark. The road was quiet, with no passing traffic or pedestrians.

The feeling of being watched struck again, as it had several times over the weekend and the last few days. Wishing he could ignore the sensation, TC looked around. At first glance, there was nothing to see. But a closer look at the road outside the far corner of the lot showed a darker shadow.

TC strained his eyes to tease definition out of the shadows. He thought it was a vehicle, possibly black. He wouldn’t swear to it under oath, but every instinct he had was screaming that this was the same vehicle he’d seen last Friday morning. The one that he thought he’d seen a few times over the weekend, out near Robin’s Nest. On Monday at the market. Yesterday when he was putting gas in the van.

He’d tried to get a good look at it every time, but it was never close enough. Or the angle was wrong. But this, now, the vehicle just parked in the road, was the final straw.

Maybe he should tell the guys that he felt like he was being watched, followed. They’d helped him through spells like this before. But things were going so well right now, that he didn’t want to cause them any worry.

He was sure he was over-reacting, anyway. There was no reason for anyone to follow him. Honestly, if that were going to happen to anyone, it would be TM. He was the one who was always making enemies from the cases he took on.

But just in case he wasn’t over-reacting, TC reached for his checklist again. Flipped the page over and wrote three words on the back of it. Along with as much of the registration number as he’d been able to see over the past few days. Then he laid the clipboard back on the seat, and eased himself out of the chopper.

Perhaps he should tell Rick and Magnum what he thought was going on. He would be upset if they didn’t come to him for help with a problem, and he knew that they would feel the same way. He shook his head and smiled. He would talk to them tonight.

A faint sound echoed behind him, the scuff of a sneaker on the ground. Before he could turn, he felt the muzzle of a gun hard against his spine.

“Don’t move.”

TC froze, his hand still resting on the frame of the chopper.

“Step away from the helicopter. Backwards. More, more. Stop.” The gun stayed in the small of his back as he moved, steps slow and cautious, until he was six feet away from the helicopter.

Now that he was surrounded by open space, the voice spoke again.

“You two. Secure his hands.”

TC heard more footsteps and then his hands were pulled behind his back, his wrists secured with zip ties. He immediately tugged against them, only to feel the gun dig deeper into his back.

“You’re going to help us tonight.”

“I am?” TC’s tone was pure disbelief.

“Yes. We need a charter flight. Below the radar, to the roof of a building in Honolulu, then back to our base.”

“You have a strange way of asking.”

“I’m not asking.” The gun emphasised that point sharply and TC flinched at the sharp movement.

“We have a collection to make, and our previous pilot is indisposed at the moment.” The voice was bland, as though discussing the weather.

“A collection? Sounds to me like your collection isn’t authorised. Which would make it stealing.” TC wasn’t Thomas, but he was nobody’s fool either. These guys were obviously criminals, and there was no way he’d be helping them.

“Semantics.” The word was a verbal shrug.

“You’re going to fly us there and back.”

“I don’t think so.”

The gun shoved harder into TC’s back.

“That’s not going to change my mind. And even if it could, why would I help you? You’re only going to kill me afterwards.” TC tried not to let his anger colour his words.

“Help us, and you walk away. My word on it.”

“I don’t think your word’s worth very much.” TC let his disdain for the man carry into his tone this time.

“Pity you feel that way.” The man shifted slightly, addressing one of the other men.

“Give me the tablet.”

The gun eased away from TC’s spine for a second before returning to its position. When the pressure resumed, the angle suggested that someone else was now holding the weapon.

Seconds passed, and then the man finally came to stand in front of TC. TC stared hard at the face in front of him, knowing as he did so, that he’d probably never get the chance to describe it. If he even could. The man was so ordinary that even his mother would have trouble spotting him in a crowd.

The man held up a tablet, tapping on the screen a few times before turning the device around for TC to see the screen.

“Please watch carefully.”

The video played in silence for five minutes.

TC felt sick as the scenes played out. Panic filled him, and moments later he was tugging on the wrist restraints hard enough to tear the skin.

The satisfaction on the man’s face, seeing his reaction, made him hold himself still again. He fell back on his experiences in the camp to keep his face expressionless. He forced his emotions behind a wall inside himself, sealing them away so that he could do what needed to be done right now.

But he could see the spark of unholy joy in the man’s eyes, and knew that he’d got himself under control too late.

“So, we have an agreement then, Mr Calvin?” The man’s voice turned smooth and cold. “You fly us where we need to go, and you get to walk away. You keep your mouth shut. And the devices in that video will never be activated.”

TC didn’t believe him, but saying so wasn’t going to help. All he could do was go along with everything for now, and hope he got a chance to make a break for it later.

He had no choice.

He nodded, unable to trust his voice.

Then a black hood dropped over his head, cutting off his vision. Not that it mattered; he kept seeing those videos play out, over and over again.

MPI-MPI-MPI


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday  
Morning, 08:15

Juliet Higgins carefully hid her smile as she walked with Magnum across the hospital parking lot.

She’d parked the Range Rover reasonably close to the entrance, as it was still early in the day and the lot was fairly empty. She’d refused point blank to let Magnum drive himself to this check-up, pointing out that he was still using crutches.

Not that crutches were slowing him down at all. Magnum crossed the lot quickly, swinging the crutches easily to pace himself. He had more energy than a five-year old who’d been eating unadulterated sugar all day. So much energy, in fact, that he kept pulling a few feet ahead of her, then slowing down to wait for her to catch up again.

He’d spent the last weekend telling her that he really didn’t need the crutches any more, that his leg felt as good as new, and that he was sure he could take the surf ski out for a quick paddle. It had needed all four of them – herself, Rick, TC and Kumu – to talk him out of heading into the waves. It had been good to see him that energetic again, though, that excited about doing something.

The shooting had taken a lot out of him. Out of all of them. She still woke, shaking, from nightmares about that day. Seeing again her kitchen floor covered in Magnum’s blood. Magnum himself, lying dreadfully still and unresponsive. Feeling the panic that she was going to lose him, lose a member of a family she’d only just started to admit that she was building.

Rick had struggled to cope with everything as well, but his visit to the shooting range ten days ago seemed to have done the trick for him.

TC had seemed the least affected of them all, but Juliet had noticed that he’d become more protective since the shooting. Quietly keeping an eye on all of them, on everything that happened around them. She’d been trained in situational awareness by some of the best in the field, but TC made her look like a rank amateur.

Maybe once Magnum was cleared by the doctor, and finally free of the crutches, she and TC would both be able to relax again. At least, until Magnum dragged them into another one of his cases.

“Come on, Higgins.” Magnum’s voice carried back to her, tone teasing. “We haven’t got all day.”

“The doctor isn’t going anywhere, Magnum.” She kept her tone cool, but couldn’t stop the smile when he answered her.

She strolled across the tarmac behind him, glad she’d chosen to wear jeans and sneakers that morning, unwittingly copying Magnum’s choices. She found it amusing how often they made similar decisions. The chill breeze raised a few goose bumps on her arms, making her wish she’d worn a jacket over her patterned summer top.

“He might not be, but I am.” Magnum’s grin was huge. “As soon as he clears me, it’s back to the beach. Into the water.”

The yearning tone was slight, but Juliet caught it easily.

“You really can’t wait, can you?” She was serious now.

“No.” Magnum met her gaze, tone completely serious now. “These last few weeks have nearly killed me.”

“You hid it well.”

“I had to. Rick and TC, you too, you all had enough to worry about. Me going stir crazy wasn’t something you needed to add to the list.” He was sincere, and Higgins laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling the subtle texture of the weave in his blue t-shirt. It really was a good colour for him, much the same as the shirt she’d once used to train Zeus and Apollo.

“You could have said something, you know. We knew it was hard. Maybe telling us would have helped.”

“Maybe.” Magnum shrugged. “Maybe not.”

They entered the elevator and headed up to Doctor Carlson’s office. Moments later, they were heading down the corridor, coming to a stop just outside the door.

“Higg-. Juliet.” Magnum turned to face her. “I just want to say … thank you. For everything.”

Juliet wanted to answer, but Magnum spoke first.

“Just … hear me out, okay?” He ducked his head for a second, seeming unsure of himself for just a moment. “I know that I’ve been difficult to deal with. I’m not a good patient. Just ask the guys. But, you stuck with me. Like they did. And I just wanted to say, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Thomas.” Juliet blinked quickly, feeling her eyes fill with tears. The last few weeks had been an emotional time, and she was clearly not coping as well as she’d thought. She could see herself fitting in an extra yoga session this afternoon.

She could see the concern in his eyes as she brushed her fingers across her eyes. He could be the most annoying man she’d ever met, but under it all, he was basically a really good man. One she would hate to lose, as a friend, but even more so as a part of her own little family.

She smiled broadly at him, patting his shoulder, then turned towards the door.

“Now then, let’s see about getting you back into the water.”

MPI-MPI-MPI

Half an hour later, Magnum exited the office, the smile on his face bright enough to light the hallway.

“Did you hear that, Higgins? Ocean, here I come.” Magnum knew he was grinning like a loon, but he was just so pleased to be able to get back to normal.

“I did hear Doctor Carlson say that you should take things slowly. Don’t overdo things.”

“Spoilsport!” Magnum grabbed her arms and spun her around once. “I won’t overdo it. You know me, I’m always careful.”

Magnum saw the moment Juliet’s composure cracked and joined her as she started to laugh. A minute later he was pulling her back to lean against the wall, as her laughter took on a slightly hysterical edge.

“Juliet? You okay?” He wasn’t really worried, but it wasn’t like her to let her emotions get the better of her.

“I’m fine. Honestly, Thomas, I’m fine.” Higgins hiccupped a short breath, then took a longer one and held it for a moment. “It’s just … I don’t think I quite realised, until now, just how long the last few weeks have been. And how glad I am that they’re behind us.”

“I’m so sorry.” Magnum murmured the words, getting a sharp look in return.

“None of this was your fault, Magnum, so don’t go apologising for it.” He could see how quickly she pulled herself back under control. “The only people to blame are those two men who tried to kill the lads.”

She pushed herself away from the wall and tugged gently on his arm. They strolled towards the elevator, quiet now. Then she spoke again.

“Call Rick and TC later. Tell them we’ll celebrate on Saturday. On the beach.”

“Can we talk you into learning to surf this time?” The words were teasing.

“No chance. I’ve no desire to get far enough out to sea to be shark food, thank you very much.” Her tone was dry, but her eyes danced in amusement.

“You never know, you might enjoy it.” Magnum couldn’t resist the comment, not at all surprised at the eye roll it netted him. Juliet’s views on not becoming shark food had been made very clear since their day in the Molokai Channel. He was waiting for some sort of sarcastic rejoinder, when Higgins tugged on his arm and pulled him to his right.

“I wonder what Katsumoto’s doing here.”

Magnum followed her gaze and saw the detective coming out of the room at the far end of the corridor.

“He doesn’t look injured.” Magnum’s eyes ranged over Katsumoto, looking for any sign that the man was ill or hurt. 

The man was dressed as usual in dress trousers, button-down shirt and jacket. None of the clothes were torn or damaged, implying that something other than a personal injury was the reason for his presence in the hospital.

Magnum knew that the detective wasn’t really talking to him at the moment, and he still wasn’t sure how to repair the damage he’d done to their relationship with his lies about Hannah’s return a couple of months ago. That was a problem he’d not yet found a way to solve.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t care about the detective, or still count the other man amongst his small circle of true friends. And anything that hurt his friends, hurt him. So if there was a way he could help Katsumoto, he would. Gladly. Even if Katsumoto didn’t want his help.

As they watched, the detective turned towards the elevator and locked eyes with both of them. His pace picked up and he closed the distance between them in mere seconds.

“What are you two doing here?” The question was curt.

“Good morning to you, as well, Detective.” Juliet’s sweet tone hid a core of steel, and Magnum had to smother his grin.

Katsumoto took a breath and sighed heavily.

“Good morning. And now could you answer my question? Please.”

“I’ve just been to see Doc Carlson about my leg.” Magnum indicated his left leg with a wave. “He’s happy with how it’s healed, and he’s let me ditch the crutches.”

The mention of the injury saw a flash of something like concern fill Katsumoto’s eyes for a second, and Magnum quietly rejoiced. Katsumoto still cared what happened to him. In spite of everything, it looked like he still had a chance to save his growing friendship with the detective.

“No other reason?” Katsumoto sounded wary now.

“No. Should there be?” A tendril of worry took root in Magnum’s mind. Something was wrong here.

“You’re not here to see Calvin?”

“Calvin? You mean TC?” Magnum was shocked. “He’s here? What happened to him?”

“You really don’t know?” Katsumoto’s rigidity unbent a little.

“Know what, Detective?” Higgins cut in now, attention sharply focussed.

“TC was brought in last night from the scene of a helicopter crash, near Sand Island. And now he’s under arrest for robbery and assault.”

“Is he okay?” Magnum’s only concern was TC. “How badly is he injured?”

“Are you joking, Detective?” Juliet’s tone suggested that Katsumoto may have lost his grip on reality. “You expect us to believe that TC would be involved in some sort of criminal activity?”

“None of you really have room to talk.” Katsumoto shot the words out.

“And TC will be fine.” That comment was aimed squarely at Magnum, and he could only nod in response.

“Point taken.” Higgins admitted. “But we always have a good reason.”

Katsumoto sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. He looked tired and worn down, and Magnum wished he knew how to help. Wished he knew what he could say to help lift the burdens clearly weighing the detective down.

“You don’t really believe he did it, Katsumoto? Not really?” Magnum hated the edge of pleading he could hear in his own voice, knowing that the other man would pick up on it as well.

“I do.” Katsumoto shook his head. “I have video footage of him flying the helicopter used in the crime.”

“There has to be a reason.” Magnum couldn’t think of what that reason was, but he knew that there had to be a reason. Nothing else made sense.

“Well, if there is, he’s not sharing it with me.”

“Maybe he’ll tell me, us.” Magnum made the offer without hesitation. Katsumoto looked at him and shook his head.

“I’m not letting you in there with him. Who knows what kind of story you’d all come up with. I couldn’t trust you to tell me the truth about anything he says.”

“We would never lie to you.” Magnum objected hotly.

“Need I mention Hannah?” The flare of sadness in the detective’s eyes hurt Magnum. He’d caused that look, and right now, he wished he found another way to deal with Hannah. He shook his head slowly.

“I guess I deserve that.” Sometimes the truth hurt. “But honestly, it really was for your own good.”

“Tell me another one.” Katsumoto sounded resigned.

Magnum stared at the floor for a moment, still trying to wrap his mind around what they’d just learned. There had to be a reason for what TC had done. And maybe, if they could help Katsumoto get that reason out of TC, they could sort everything out. What TC had done, and why. And maybe repair some of the damage Magnum had done to Katsumoto’s trust in him. Maybe it was too little, too late, but he had to try.

“Come with us.” Magnum offered. “Let us talk to TC, with you in the room. You’d hear everything we’d hear. Nothing hidden, no lies.”

Katsumoto stood silent for a long minute, staring blankly at the floor, before raising his eyes and nodding.

“Okay.” He turned and headed back to the room he’d just left.

Magnum trailed behind him, Higgins at his side, still turning the facts over in his thoughts. TC was hurt. TC had committed robbery, assault. Why?

TC was hurt. That was the one fact that trumped all the others. Why hadn’t he called Magnum? Or Rick? Or Higgins? Or asked someone at the hospital to call any one of them? Why was he doing whatever he was doing all alone?

They followed Katsumoto into the single room. Magnum wasn’t sure what to expect, but seeing TC awake and aware took the sharpest edge off his panic. In spite of the fact that TC’s left wrist was handcuffed to the bed railing. That his face was bruised and his head sported a bandage. That his right elbow was immobilised by a brace. TC was alive, and right then, that was all that mattered.

But then he took in the expression on TC’s face, and his worry ratcheted up to almost unbearable levels. TC’s face was blank, totally expressionless. He didn’t even acknowledge Katsumoto or Higgins. A slight flash of sorrow and determination flickered when Magnum met TC’s eyes, but the emotion was quickly squashed.

Whatever was going on here was beyond bad.

“TC. Are you okay?” Magnum found himself at the bedside, not even truly aware of having crossed the distance from the door. He reached out to touch TC’s hand, but TC pulled that hand as far away as the chain of the handcuffs would allow.

“TC, please talk to me. What’s going on?” Magnum entreated his friend.

But TC refused to answer, turning his head away to stare out the window. His face remained blank, the expression one that Magnum had learned to hate during their captivity.

“TC. Let us help you. Please.” Higgins spoke quietly from beside Magnum. He hadn’t even heard her follow him across the room. He could hear the emotion buried in her voice, and knew that TC had to hear it too.

But TC didn’t answer.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Katsumoto had left ten minutes earlier, leaving Magnum and Higgins in the corridor outside TC’s room. The detective had made It clear to the officer standing watch at the door that neither Magnum, nor any of his friends, were to be allowed in the room again. Not unless Katsumoto was present, and had authorised their entry into the room personally.

Magnum had made it as far as the waiting room near the elevator. Now, he found he just couldn’t move another step. He let himself drop into one of the hard chairs and stared blankly at the wall.

This couldn’t be happening.

How could TC be involved in something like this?

What was he missing? Had something happened to TC over the last few weeks? Had he been too self-obsessed to see what was right under his nose?

“Magnum.” Juliet’s quiet voice finally broke through his daze. “Are you hearing me?”

“Higgins.” Magnum nodded. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I.” Higgins shook her head decisively. “And I don’t care what sort of video evidence Detective Katsumoto has. It’s obviously been tampered with.”

The rush of gratitude drowned out Magnum’s panic. The unwavering belief in her voice was comforting, a point of sanity to cling to when the whole world appeared to have gone mad.

“Now we just have to find a way to prove that.” Magnum leaned back in the chair, replaying those few minutes in TC’s room in detail.

The last time that TC had refused to speak to him had been when he’d turned Hani over to the police. That had hurt so badly that he’d felt unbalanced for weeks afterward, not to mention pathetically grateful that he and TC had been able to move past that pain and back to their friendship.

But now he felt that pain again. TC’s rejection tore through something deep inside of him. In a way, it was almost worse than losing Nuzo. Nuzo leaving him hadn’t been a choice. But TC was still here, still breathing, and deliberately shutting him out.

He forced himself to set the pain aside, shoving it into a dark corner in his heart and tried to look at the short time in TC’s presence objectively.

He replayed every second, his mind sticking fast on the moment when TC had pulled his hand away from Magnum’s questing fingers.

“Wrists!”

“Full sentences, please, Magnum. I’m not telepathic. And thank the heavens for that.” The acerbic tone was just what Magnum needed to kick his mind into gear.

“TC’s wrists, Higgins. Did you look at them?”

“I have to confess that I didn’t.” Higgins answered. “Why?”

“The skin’s bruised, torn. Starting to scab over. He’s been restrained, tied up by someone. He tried to get loose. Sometime in the last day.”

“Well, then.” Higgins was definite. “Now it just remains to find out who took him, why, and how he ended up in a helicopter crash.”

“Sounds simple when you put it like that.” Magnum couldn’t help the slight chuckle, no matter how desperate the situation.

“Of course.” Higgins grinned then, too, before getting to her feet again. “We’d best get a move on, then. We can’t do anything from here.”

Magnum stood as well, joining her as they turned towards the elevator again, new purpose in their steps.

“Mr. Magnum. A moment, please.” A familiar voice rang out behind them, and Magnum turned.

“Doc Milford.”

“You’re not here about problems from that shoulder injury a few months back?” Magnum couldn’t quite follow the question, then realised that Milford had to know that the guard on TC’s door was listening.

“No, it’s fine, thanks.” He kept his voice loud enough to carry easily. “This time, I was here about my leg.”

“Yes, you do seem to collect injuries.” Milford agreed. Magnum nodded, seeing the moment when the guard lost interest in the conversation.

“I see you know about your friend.” Milford lowered his voice and carefully kept his back to the police officer, indicating that they should head towards the nurses’ desk.

“You’ve seen him?” Magnum asked.

“I treated him when they brought him in this morning.” Milford nodded, pulling a patient chart towards him across the counter. He flipped it open and perused the pages.

“He’s a lot like you and your other friend. Didn’t even ask how badly he was hurt.”

“How badly is he hurt?” Higgins got the question out first.

“He wouldn’t talk to us.” Magnum admitted, in response to Milford’s raised eyebrow.

“Well, I’m not actually supposed to tell you.” Magnum tipped his head to the side and Milford smiled. “But I consider you all a family, so you may as well know. You’d find out anyway, even if I didn’t tell you.”

Higgins nodded and Magnum grinned at the doctor. Milford simply sighed then and shook his head.

“TC will be fine. The injuries are surprisingly not as serious as I was expecting. A mild concussion, a fairly deep cut under that bandage on his head, a lot of bruising and a dislocated elbow. And the restraint marks.”

“You saw those too.” Magnum was surprised.

“I’m very thorough.” Magnum nodded at that. He knew from experience just how thorough Doc Milford could be.

“I just wish I knew why he won’t talk to us.” Higgins sounded puzzled, but Magnum was starting to build a theory about that. He didn’t like where it was heading, but he had a feeling that he was right.

“I can’t say I’m surprised by that. He didn’t even want to talk to me.” Milford confirmed quietly. “He made me promise not to call any of you, not to let any of you know he was here.”

“Doc, have you got any idea why?” Magnum knew the question sounded desperate, but that was exactly how he felt.

“No, he wouldn’t say. All he did say was that I was not to tell you. His exact words were ‘you can’t tell them’. Which sounds like he would want you to know, but has a reason to keep quiet.” Milford chuckled, and Magnum knew his surprise must be clear on his face. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’m rather good at reading between the lines. And those restraint marks gave my theory some extra weight.”

“He didn’t say anything else?” Magnum heard the faint tinge of hope in his question, but Milford shook his head.

“Only that he did it; committed whatever crime they’ve accused him of.”

“That’s a lie.” Juliet’s answer was immediate.

“You can’t get us back in to see him?” Magnum desperately wanted a few minutes alone with TC, sure that he could get more details out of his friend if he could talk to him alone.

“No. That police officer on the door is not one of my fans.” Milford laughed. “He tried to get in the way of me treating TC earlier, and I may have threatened to call his commanding officer. But he still can’t keep me out of the room, as TC is my patient.”

Magnum looked at Higgins then, sharing a conversation with a few looks and a nod of the head. Milford watched them with a faintly amused look in his eyes.

“Is there something you would like me to tell him?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Magnum struggled to find the words for a moment, then carried on. “We’ve got his back. Always. And we’re going to find the truth. Whatever it is.”

“We’re going to help him.” Higgins added. “Even if he thinks he doesn’t want our help.”

Milford looked at them both for a long moment, then smiled broadly and nodded.

“I can do that.” He spared them both one more glance as he turned away, heading back towards TC’s room. “And I may just tell him that he’s a very lucky man to have friends like you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Magnum whispered as he and Higgins turned to leave. She laid a gentle hand on his arm as they stepped into the elevator, and Magnum heard her murmured answer as the doors closed on the now-deserted corridor.

“We both are.”

MPI-MPI-MPI

Magnum settled into the passenger seat of the Range Rover, pulling his phone out of his pocket to switch the ringer back on. His eyes widened at seeing the string of missed calls and messages, all from Rick. He opened the last message received and his fingers tightened reflexively on the device.

‘Urgent. TC. Call me.’

“What is it?” Higgins question made Magnum look up, to see her indicating his white-knuckled grip on the phone.

“Messages from Rick. Telling me to call him, mentioning TC.”

“Do you think he knows anything?”

“No.” Magnum was sure. “If he did, we’d have heard from him long before now.”

He thumbed the screen, putting the phone on speaker mode and hitting the redial for Rick’s number. Less than a second later, Rick’s voice filled the car.

“Thomas. It’s about time. Where have you been?” The undertone of fear shook Magnum. Rick wasn’t a guy who scared easily.

“Seeing Doc Carlson. The ringer was off.”

“Okay. Okay, I can deal with that. You’re okay.” The fear faded slightly, then returned as Rick rushed his questions out. “Have you seen TC? Heard from him?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Higgins chipped in.

“What?” Rick’s confusion was clear, and Magnum couldn’t hide the smile.

“He’s okay, Rick.” Magnum reassured the other man, wishing he could see Rick as he spoke. It was far too easy for Rick to hide things when you couldn’t see his reactions.

“Oh, thank God.” Rick’s voice faded out for a moment, and Magnum could hear him speak to someone else. “He’s okay, Shammy.”

A murmured conversation followed, and Magnum could only pick up the occasional word. He looked across at Higgins, tipped his head towards the phone and waited for her nod of agreement.

“Rick, you’re at Island Hoppers?” He cut through the conversation on the other end of the line, waiting for Rick’s confirmation.

“Higgins and I are coming there, okay? Right now. Wait for us.”

“Half an hour at most, Rick.” Higgins threw in the comment as she made the turn out of the parking lot and onto the road that would eventually lead them to TC’s business.

“Good.” Rick sounded relieved. “There’s something here you need to see. And Thomas, it’s not good.”

MPI-MPI-MPI


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday  
Morning, 10:25

Magnum’s nerves were singing by the time the Range Rover turned into the parking area at TC’s business. The chopper was in its usual spot, along with TC’s van. Nothing looked damaged, nothing was out of place.

Except for Shammy, who’d parked his wheelchair right next to the office door. And Rick, who was pacing back and forth in front of Shammy, holding what looked like a clipboard in his hand.

Magnum was out of the car as soon as Higgins had killed the engine. Rick spun around and headed straight for him, jean-clad legs eating up the distance between them. Rick had clearly been in a rush to get to TC’s office this morning, as he was wearing sneakers and a slightly crumpled t-shirt, instead of his smarter working clothes.

Magnum could see the moment Rick noted the lack of crutches, his eyes lighting up for a second.

“Thomas. You okay?”

“Fine. Doc Carlson’s happy.” Magnum offered the reassurance and Rick nodded, a brief smile filling his face before worry clouded it over again. “But we have a problem.”

“You’d better believe it.” Rick waved the clipboard wildly, and Magnum swayed back to avoid a sharp corner, grabbing hold of the board and stopping Rick’s movement dead.

“This is it?” Magnum looked the clipboard over. It was TC’s standard flight checklist, and Magnum skimmed over it, seeing the familiar terms and phrases. Things he’d heard TC say hundreds, if not thousands, of times before.

“Yeah.” Rick looked at him, then took the board back, flipping the pages over so that Magnum could see the back of them. One look was all it took.

“Not good. So not good.” The words were pulled from him, every syllable an ache.

“What is not good?” Higgins slipped a hand between the two men, and took control of the clipboard. “What TC wrote here? ‘Never. Always. Now.’ And ‘DJ 8 6/9 ZZ – black’. What on earth does all of that mean?”

“The words mean that there’s trouble. Not trouble coming, but here. And somehow, TC is in the middle of it all.” Rick offered the explanation, while Magnum looked over the rest of the sheet of paper. Some random numbers and letters. Nothing obviously helpful. He tuned back in to the conversation to hear Juliet’s next question.

“How do three words tell you all of that?”

“I’d like to know as well.” Shammy spoke quietly, and Magnum nodded to him.

“Okay.” He took a breath, thinking of how best to explain it. “In the camp, TC … well, TC was that guy who knew how to focus on what mattered, you know? Not just getting through what was going on, but thinking past it. Kind of a defence against letting your mind get stuck there, in that one spot. That one moment.”

Rick and Shammy were both nodding, although Higgins still looked uncertain. But Magnum could see the confusion lift as he went on.

“He had these words he used to tell us. These ones.” Magnum tapped the board in Juliet’s hands. “The first word, ‘Never’ was to remind us that we were in it together. We were doing it together, never leaving anyone behind. Then, ‘Always’ was about what got us to where we were; about not forgetting what we’d been through, always remembering it and that we survived it. And the last word, ‘Now’ was to keep us focused on what we had right then, there with each other. We still had each other, and we could hang on to that. We could carry on.”

“So these words are like a bulwark.” Higgins murmured. “A way of defending you all against an enemy. Even if the enemy wasn’t always physical.”

“I guess.” Magnum shrugged. “We never really analysed it. It just … worked for us.”

“I get it.” Shammy said. “The guys in my unit, we felt like that too. We just never put it into words like that.”

“Yeah.” Rick agreed. “Which is why I know this – whatever this is – is bad. For TC to write this down …”

“That ties in with what Doctor Milford said,” Higgins interjected, “that he thought that TC was protecting someone.”

“Milford?” Rick’s eyebrow rose and Magnum nodded in response.

“TC is in the hospital. Helicopter crash.” Magnum raised a hand before Rick could say anything. “He’s okay. And no, we didn’t know. We saw Katsumoto at the hospital when we were leaving Doc Carlson, and he told us that TC was there. That he’s been arrested for robbery and assault.”

“No way!” Rick was incensed.

“Milford said TC admitted it to him. TC hasn’t spoken to us at all.” Higgins offered. “Not that we believe his admission, of course. And Magnum did see signs that TC had been held against his will, so we’d already decided to do some digging into what is actually going on. And then we saw your messages.”

MPI-MPI-MPI

“Thanks, Jules.” The sincerity in her voice, coupled with her utter belief in TC’s innocence, was just about the only bright point in Rick’s morning. Although he had to admit, seeing Thomas without the crutches was wonderful, another tiny point of light in a dark day.

“Of course.” The answer was quiet, reinforced with a pat on the shoulder. Rick let himself pull strength from that touch, before turning back to Magnum.

“Shammy called me about an hour ago, maybe a bit longer?” Rick tipped his head towards the other man. Shammy nodded.

“About that. Maybe a bit longer.” The mechanic looked up at them all for a moment, then replayed his morning.

“I got here about the usual time. Started the coffee.” He shook his head. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s self-defence. TC’s coffee is lethal, and I’m not drinking it unless there’s no other choice.”

“True.” Rick agreed with a faint smile.

“TC wasn’t here yet, but I figured maybe he swung past your place, or yours.” Shammy indicated Rick and Magnum with a wave. “But he never showed up. And I couldn’t find the checklist for the chopper. TC’s last tour was the sunset one, last night, but he always puts the checklist in the office. In case there’s anything he wants me to look at, first thing in the morning. He always puts the checklist on his desk.”

“Okay, so you went out and found it in the chopper?” Magnum added the question.

“Yeah. On the passenger seat, like he’d put it down and was planning to come back for it.” Shammy nodded. “So I called Rick, to see if he had any idea where TC was.”

“And I didn’t have a clue.” Rick took up the story again. “So I came out here and Shammy showed me the checklist, and I found that message written on the back.”

A cold chill ran across Rick’s spine, reminding him of things he’d rather not remember and places he’d prefer not to recall. He was lost in the feelings for a moment, then Magnum’s hand was warm on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Rick. You’re fine.” The words were calm and soothing, and Rick shook off the past.

“Yeah, I’m okay, now. Thanks.” He nodded to Magnum and looked at the clipboard again. “Then I started calling you and sending messages. And getting more worried with every one you didn’t answer. Sorry about that, I’d forgotten about the hospital visit.”

“Seeing that,” Magnum pointed at the message, “I’d have done the same.”

“I just don’t know what the other numbers and letters mean.” Rick wondered.

“They’re not a part number, they’re not a page number in any of the maintenance manuals. Nothing to do with TC’s filing system. Not a tax number.” Shammy shook his head slowly. “I can’t think of anywhere else to look.”

Rick felt the same frustration, and knew that Thomas had to be feeling it as well. But there had to be something they could do. Some way to find out why TC would say he’d committed a crime. A way to find the truth.

“Hey, Shammy, has TC been odd at all? In the last few weeks?” Rick figured it couldn’t hurt to ask the question.

“Well, yeah, a bit.” Shammy nodded, and waved a hand towards Magnum. “He was really upset when you got shot, obviously. We all were, though. But about ten days ago, he seemed way better. More relaxed, I guess.”

Rick nodded, thinking back. Ten days ago had been when he’d visited Clyde, and everyone had relaxed after that. So nothing unusual there.

“But one day last week, Friday I think, something was odd.” The words were quiet and thoughtful.

“What was it?” Rick jumped on the comment, and knew that TC would have told him to calm down and let the other man think.

“TC didn’t come straight to the office when he got here. He stood out there staring at the road. I asked him if he was okay, and he said yes.” Shammy ran one hand through his hair, tugging hard in frustration before letting go.

“Any idea what he was looking at?” Magnum got the question in before Rick could speak again.

‘Not really. A car went by about the same time; big, one of those SUV type things. I wasn’t really paying attention. Maybe he was looking at that?” Shammy sounded unsure, and Rick patted him on the shoulder.

“That’s more than we had five minutes ago.” He shared a glance with Magnum, offering an explanation when Higgins raised an eyebrow in a question.

“TC’s really good at spotting things that don’t fit in; things that make your instincts sit up and pay attention. If he was looking at something in the road, then it was something worth seeing.”

Higgins nodded, turning to look at the road, aiming her question at Shammy.

“TC doesn’t have any cameras here, does he?”

“No. He says there’s no need, it’s too hard to steal a helicopter.”

Rick laughed at that, hearing the words in TC’s voice as Shammy spoke them.

“There are cameras on the road.” Higgins pointed to the nearest corner. “But I can’t do anything about that from here. I need to get back to the estate.”

“Higgins, what are you thinking?” Magnum asked.

“That Detective Katsumoto is only too happy to have a suspect in custody. That he has a desk full of active cases. That he might get around to asking the right questions in this case, but that it most likely won’t be in the next few days. And that certain things are best done sooner rather than later.” Higgins kept her answer just vague enough for plausible deniability.

“That almost sounds like you’re planning to do something he wouldn’t approve of.” Rick’s sly comment raised a smile from the blonde.

“I would never, Rick. How could you even suggest such a thing?” In spite of protesting her innocence, her smile turning to a wicked grin. Rick glanced over at Thomas, only to find an answering grin there.

“You know surveys show that people think someone with a British accent is honest and trustworthy.” Magnum added, tipping his head towards Higgins. “She told me that. Right after she’d done something completely illegal.”

“Okay then.” Rick nodded. “We have no plans to do anything. And we’re going back to Robin’s Nest to continue doing … absolutely nothing.”

“Correct.” Higgins nodded, then turned to Shammy, lifting the clipboard. “I’m going to take this with me. Those numbers and letters must mean something if TC made a point of writing them down.”

“Sure.” Shammy shook his head. “I wish there was something more I could do.”

“There is.” Magnum spoke. “The police are going to show up here at some point, probably later today. They’re going to have questions and they’re going to want to look around. Not that I don’t trust Katsumoto, but I’d rather have someone from our side keeping an eye on whichever officers he sends out here.”

“Consider it done.” Shammy nodded immediately, looking pleased at being able to do something useful. “I’ll ride herd on them. Literally, if I have to.”

“Thanks, Shammy.” Rick dug out his car keys, then smiled at the other man. “I wish I could be here to watch you run over someone’s foot when they get pushy.”

That raised a snort from Higgins and a hint of a smile from Magnum, then the pair headed back to the Range Rover. Moments later, the car pulled out of the lot and turned towards the road to the coast and Robin’s Nest.

Rick shared one more look and a decisive nod with Shammy before following the same road.

As the wind blew past him on the road, he found his thoughts circling the same few questions. The behaviour Shammy had described was typical of TC when he thought he – or his friends – were being watched. And if he’d felt that way, why hadn’t he said anything? To him? To any of them? Why would TC admit to carrying out a crime? Why would he not talk to Magnum and Higgins at the hospital?

And under it all was the worry he couldn’t really admit, even to himself.

If they couldn’t figure out what was going on, TC was going to end up in prison.

Caged against his will. Again. And this time, he would be alone.

That would break his friend; Rick was sure of it. And if TC broke …

That would break them all.

MPI-MPI-MPI


	5. Chapter 5

Thursday  
Morning, 11:10

Owen Milford nodded coolly to the police guard outside TC’s door, ignoring the man’s annoyed expression as he walked into room. He made a point of closing the door behind him.

TC was staring out the window.

Milford took a moment to simply observe the man. He could see the pain TC was trying to ignore, in the way that the man held himself still in the bed. He knew, without question, that this patient was going to be easily as stubborn as his two friends. He was just going to be more subtle about it. Quieter. A bigger challenge. Owen Milford smiled at the thought.

“TC.” The man turned his head to look at him, but said nothing. The blank expression was still in place, and Milford suddenly recognised it for the defence mechanism it truly was.

“The police obviously know who you are. But as far as they know, you’re just another patient to me.” He could see the other man take that thought in, and carried on. “You can talk to me. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you say to me leaves this room.”

The blank stare remained, although Milford did see the twitch in TC’s left hand, even though the man tried not to let his fingers move. 

Then a minimal shake of his head was TC’s only reply.

“Are you afraid of someone?” Milford watched carefully as he posed the question and saw no sign that he’d asked the right thing.

“Are you protecting someone?” And there it was, a twitch of the fingers so small that Milford would have missed it at any other time.

“Admirable, I suppose.” Milford tried another tack. “But wouldn’t they be better off if they knew what, or whom, you were protecting them from?”

Another miniscule twitch and Milford smiled at TC. He did enjoy being right in his deductions.

“Or is it that you don’t know? You only know that they’re in danger.” He kept his tone conversational.

TC closed his eyes and Milford knew two things. First, he’d struck on the truth. And second, he’d met his match in TC – the man was never going to talk.

He came alongside the bed, then, to check the readings on the machines and make a few notes on the chart.

“I’ll let it go, TC. I won’t ask any more questions.”

TC opened his eyes and stared at him. That silent assessment was really quite intimidating, but Milford waited it out. Then TC’s eyes changed, softened for a second. Milford could see relief there. And resignation. TC knew there was no way out of this situation if he didn’t offer an explanation or defend himself. But he’d clearly decided that defending his friends was more important than his own well-being.

“At least, I won’t ask any more questions about last night. I will ask plenty of questions about your health and pain levels.” Milford waited until TC nodded before running through his questions.

A few minutes later, Milford made a final note on the chart and snapped it shut.

“I’m going to send Annie in with some pain meds and a sedative.”

TC shook his head, but Milford overruled him.

“You need the pain relief for that elbow. And the headache. Trust me on that.” Milford was definite. “And the sedative will keep the police away for a while longer. You can’t interview a sleeping patient.”

A faint spark of amusement flashed in TC’s eyes before the resignation set in again.

“I saw your friends in here earlier, with the police detective. I let them know that you’re okay.” Milford saw the quick flash of gratitude on TC’s face, and carried on speaking. “They wanted me to tell you something. Magnum said to tell you that they have your back, and that they will find the truth. And the young lady said to tell you that they are going to help you, whether you want them to or not.”

A wry grin met the last comment, and Milford smiled back.

“I have a feeling that not many people can change that young woman’s mind, so perhaps you should just give up now.”

TC shook his head slowly.

Milford left quietly then, turning back at the door to find TC once again staring out the window at the bright sunlight. The big man was soaking up the light as if he’d never get his fill, a faint air of desperation in his gaze.

No doubt enjoying something he wouldn’t see much of in prison.

And that single moment made Milford’s decision for him. The good of the patient came first, and even though he knew it went against what TC appeared to want, he was going to do what he felt was right. What needed to be done.

Decision made, he headed back to his office. The faintest spark of hope took root as he dug through his files, found the numbers he needed, and sent a short message to two of his former patients.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Wednesday, 5 June  
Late night, 23:45

They’d been driving around for what felt like hours.

TC wasn’t sure whether they’d done it to make sure he had no idea where he was, though how he was supposed to figure that out with a hood over his head, he didn’t know. Or perhaps they’d just driven around to pass the time.

Although they had made a single stop about a half hour earlier. One of the men had left the car for about ten minutes, TC thought, and then he’d returned to the vehicle with a bag of some sort. TC had felt what seemed to be canvas brush against his arm as the man swung himself back into the seat next to TC. A duffle bag of some sort, was TC’s best guess.

He’d spent the first half hour of the trip, as best he could judge the time, trying to work his hands out of the zip ties. All he’d managed to do was tear the skin, forcing him to admit that the task was impossible. Now, both wrists burned from the effort and felt damp, confirming that he’d been bleeding. Even the slick of blood hadn’t helped him to slide a hand free, though.

Which left him stuck in this vehicle, blind and mostly deaf thanks to the hood, and unable to make any sort of move against his captors. He knew that they planned to kill him, no matter what the man in charge might have said, and that there was nothing he could do to stop them. In any other circumstances, he would simply have taken his chances against the guy with the gun back there at Island Hoppers. But those videos were the best deterrent they could have found and used against him.

He couldn’t risk anyone else.

And even if he could have got away, he didn’t know who the man with the gun was. He hadn’t even seen the other two men, so what would he tell the police?

‘I’m sorry, officer, but there were three of them. And no, I don’t know who they are. Or even what they look like.’

Even Katsumoto wouldn’t believe that story. Assuming the detective would be willing to listen to anything he had to say at the moment. Their shared history, even without Magnum’s involvement, wasn’t the best. Of course, without Magnum, there would be no history at all. Damned either way.

The road noise had all but disappeared now, suggesting that they were outside the city and away from any sort of built-up area in general. Not a promising situation. The vehicle slowed and TC braced himself for whatever would happen next.

Finally stationary, TC strained his ears. He wished he had Rick’s hearing. But nothing seemed to happen, the engine idling for a few minutes before cutting off. Then a tight grip on his arm pulled him from the vehicle.

He stumbled, off balance, and the hand pulled him upright with a vicious jerk. That would leave a bruise, he was sure.

A scuffing sound next to him was the only warning he had before the hood was pulled from his head, leaving him blinking in the dim moonlight.

He tried to take in his surroundings without making it obvious, and realised sadly that it wouldn’t matter anyway. They were surrounded by empty and abandoned warehouses. All of them made of now-rusted metal sheeting. Most of the windows were broken, with just a few window frames still sporting jagged edges of dirty glass. In front of him was the oversized loading dock of one dilapidated warehouse. And in the middle of the loading dock was a large, matt-black helicopter. It seemed to suck in all the light around it, brooding impatiently on the concrete slab.

In spite of his situation, TC couldn’t help but admire the helicopter. It was a beautiful bird, smooth and streamlined, designed to cut through the air with minimal resistance. And he couldn’t deny the urge to fly her, put her through her paces, and make her dance in the sky.

He just wished it were under other circumstances.

Then the muzzle of the gun shoved him in the back again, forcing him towards the helicopter.

He stopped moving when he was within arm’s length of the aircraft, waiting to see what happened next.

“You will fly this tonight.” It was the voice from earlier, from the man whose face was already slipping from TC’s mind.

“You really think so?” TC knew he should keep quiet, but the words were out before he could stop them.

“Yes.” A hand waved the tablet where he could see it in his peripheral vision, and he flinched slightly.

“Well, it’s not that simple. I can’t just take off and fly somewhere without checking things out first. Making sure everything’s working.” TC tilted his head towards the helicopter. “And I can’t do that without using my hands.”

The non-descript man moved in front of him and stared at him for a long moment, then nodded.

“Very well. But remember this,” he raised the tablet, “and don’t do anything stupid.”

He pulled out a boxcutter, slid the blade out and let TC look at it for a moment. Then he stepped behind TC and sliced through the zip ties with a jerk. TC’s wrists and shoulders burned from the release of pressure and tension, and he took a few minutes to let them recover before starting the pre-flight checks. 

Half an hour later, TC had to admit that the aircraft was in perfect condition, fully functional and loaded with fuel.

He eased himself into the pilot’s seat and strapped himself in, waiting as the three men climbed in as well. The young man next to him strapped himself in, then whipped out a laptop and settled it on his knees. Within moments he was tapping away, completely oblivious to TC, his face partially hidden by a long fringe of black hair.

The guy with the gun was obviously the man in charge, and he settled himself diagonally behind TC, gun aimed steady and sure at TC, hand never wavering.

The third man settled behind TC, the canvas duffle bag nestled on his lap. The faint sound of metal from the bag suggested that he was carrying tools of some sort. No doubt tools used for breaking and entering.

The leader motioned upward with the gun, and TC obliged, using the collective and the cyclic to ease the helicopter gently into the air and hover twenty feet off the ground. The wash of air from the blades was stirring up dust and small bits of debris and trash, swirling them madly around on the concrete slab below them.

“Let’s be on our way.” The voice came from the man with the gun again, and TC nodded.

“I’ll need a little more than that. Where are we going?”

“To Honolulu, near the beachfront.” The man hesitated a moment. “Stay below the radar.”

“Where at the beachfront?” TC sensed the anger behind him and spoke quickly. “You want me not to be seen. Well, I need to know where we’re going, so I can plan to keep us hidden.”

A moment’s silence stretched into a few seconds, then the man sighed.

“Okay. The roof of The Waves.”

“I know it. Which tower?”

“The one on the right, as you approach from the sea.”

“Okay. Let me tell you now, it’s going to be dangerous. Flying a bird this large, in a built-up area, at that altitude.” TC imagined the shoreline and decided that coming in from the sea was probably the best option. Fly low over the waves, then gain just enough altitude not to be noticed by anyone who might still be on the beach, and come in against the wind to land. It wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done. And without blowing his own trumpet too much, he was just the guy to do it.

“I can do it, but I’m just warning you. It could go wrong.”

The man with the gun shifted slightly, then spoke, his voice cold and deadly.

“Well then, you’d better make sure that it doesn’t.” He tapped the tablet resting on the seat next to him in emphasis.

TC pulled up gently, easing the helicopter above the buildings. As he did so, he realised just where he was. Less than a mile from Sand Island. An ideal place to come at this time of night if you were up to no good. There wasn’t much traffic in this area during the day, and at this hour of the night, there wasn’t another living soul in sight.

He hovered over the loading dock for a few minutes, feeling out the pedals, the collective and the cyclic.

“What’s the hold up?” TC was starting to hate that voice, but the gun made him mind his words and keep his explanation to the bare facts.

“Just because all helicopters have the same controls, doesn’t mean that they all handle the same. I need to see how this bird responds. If I don’t, and something does go wrong, we’ll end up crashing.”

“I don’t want to crash.” That voice TC would remember. High-pitched, nasal, like a whining mosquito.

“We’re not going to crash. Just shut up and do your job.” The guy in charge didn’t seem to have much patience.

TC pulled up on the collective, eased the cyclic to one side and the bird responded like she was grafted to his hands. The turn was smooth and steady and she picked up speed easily. For the next few minutes, TC picked his way around the other warehouses, playing with the controls. Once he felt settled, he headed away from the warehouse district, weaving past the deserted loading gantries at the dockside and out over the waves.

Then he lost altitude gradually, drifting downwards until he was barely a hundred and fifty feet above the waves. If the guys at the FAA ever found out about this, they’d review his licence in a heartbeat.

But despite the situation, TC couldn’t help but love the thrill of this kind of flying. A solid mix of skill and instinct, with a kick of adrenaline from anticipating obstacles and changes along the route – this was why he’d loved flying missions in the military. Civilian rules didn’t apply, and you could do whatever you needed to do for the job at hand.

Twenty minutes later, Honolulu filled the space before them. TC had gone further out to sea in order not to be noticed. But now he had no choice but to move into airspace where he would be visible.

“Hang on.” TC figured it was best to give the three men a warning. Then he pulled back sharply on the controls and shot up into the dark sky.

He gained speed and arrowed towards The Waves, coming in from the ocean at just under full speed, before dropping speed drastically and hovering over the roof of the tower on the right.

“What the hell are you doing?” The gun was closer now, and TC refused to let himself flinch.

“You wanted to stay invisible. Popping up, moving fast, ducking down – it makes us look like a glitch on a radar screen. Otherwise, the amount of time it would take to get from the ocean to here would have made us a visible target.”

“Next time you tell me.” The gun and the voice retreated fractionally, and TC gently brought the helicopter down onto the roof.

Two of the guys hopped out and immediately headed to the stairwell door on the far side of the roof. The guy with the laptop did some more tapping on his keyboard, and less than a minute later, both guys disappeared through the door.

TC waited, hoping the guy with the gun would get out as well. Take-off precautions be damned, he’d pull this bird into the air so fast the backwash would just about blow the guy over the edge of the roof.

But the man didn’t move, holding the gun steady all the time.

Twenty minutes later, the door popped open again, and the two men were running back to the helicopter. They climbed in, closed the doors and strapped themselves in.

“And?”

“Everything went like we planned.” The nasal voice answered the leader’s question.

“Take us back to the warehouse.” The gun inclined towards TC.

“We’re going out the way we came in.” TC offered the warning, then repeated his earlier speed manoeuvre to get the chopper back over the ocean.

He had twenty minutes, give or take, to figure out what to do now. There was no way the guy in charge was going to leave him alive. Not when he’d let TC see his face. Which meant that he had to find some way to ruin this guy’s plans.

A sudden gust of wind swept in from the open ocean, causing the chopper to jink to the left before TC course-corrected with the pedals.

“What’s wrong?” The mosquito-whine voice sounded nervous.

Without a second thought, TC took advantage of the opportunity.

“Wind’s coming up. Not good at all.” TC wasn’t even mildly concerned, as he knew the conditions would be easy to handle. But the three passengers didn’t know that, so he made sure to sound extremely concerned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The guy in charge spoke now, sounding suddenly less sure of himself.

“Choppy, changeable wind conditions make flying off the coast of Honolulu very difficult.” TC managed to keep his voice calm and factual. “It’s one of the reasons why you have to meet such strict criteria to get a pilot’s licence here.”

“But you can compensate.” The leader’s statement sounded uncertain, and TC played on the minor uncertainty he could hear.

“Sure. That’s what I’m doing right now.” TC let the chopper shift sharply for a second, pulling it back in almost immediately. “But wind isn’t visible, and I can’t plan for something I can’t see.”

“Well, you will. If you know what’s good for you.” The leader filled his voice with bravado, but TC shoved down the amusement of knowing he’d scared the guy. It was less than the guy deserved, but the only revenge TC could enjoy at the moment.

Five minutes out from Sand Island, the wind did pick up again, and TC thanked whichever gods were watching for their help tonight.

He let the tail of the helicopter swing out, before making a really obvious attempt to recover from the movement. He’d never tried this on purpose before, but there was first time for everything. He knew that a strong enough gust of wind at just the right angle could stall a tail rotor.

And he could still hear his flight instructor, back in basic training and flight school, telling him that a stalled tail rotor was almost impossible to recover from at low altitude, and would most likely result in a crash. A fatal crash.

He wished he could have left a message for Rick and Thomas. For Higgy and Kumu. For Shammy. He wished he could speak to them all one more time.

But there were no other options. No other choices. Not if he wanted to keep them safe.

He eased the helicopter around until the prevailing wind was mostly behind him. Then he waited until he felt a gust start to push at the tail. Instead of fighting it, he let the wind pull the tail around, felt the stutter in the rotor and used the pedals just enough to let the wind come in and stall the rotor.

Immediately, the pedal controls became almost useless. He let the helicopter spin helplessly for a moment, waiting until they’d dropped some altitude.

He flicked the rotor start switch off, on and off again. The three guys were too busy clutching their seats and hyperventilating to see him flick one more switch, cutting off the fuel to the engine. Seconds later, the main engine started to splutter, then died.

Eerie silence filled the helicopter, then the leader shifted in his seat. He shoved the gun right up to TC, poking him hard in the shoulder with the muzzle.

“Fix it!”

“I can’t.” TC let himself sound scared. “We’re too low to get the engine started again. Our only option is to auto-rotate the landing.”

“So do it, already.”

“It’s not that simple. I can try it, but it doesn’t usually work. Most situations like this end in a crash.” TC spat the words out. “The best thing you can do is brace yourself against the bulkhead. And if you’re a praying man, I suggest you pray.”

That silenced all of them, and TC turned his attention back to the helicopter and controlling their descent.

He hadn’t lied. Not really. Auto-rotation was massively difficult to pull off, but he knew he could do it. He’d done it once before, under fire in Afghanistan. Getting it right here should have been much easier.

With one difference. Tonight, he intended to fail. A fatal crash would be the best result he could hope for right now.

With that thought in mind, he feathered the controls just enough to keep the forward momentum going, dropping lower with every yard he covered. If he’d remembered the distances correctly, they wouldn’t make it back to the warehouse at Sand Island. With any luck, they’d crash right near the dockside.

Just as the dockside came into view, TC felt the drag on the helicopter frame increasing and knew that he only had moments to get the bird over dry land. He pulled sharply on the cyclic, angling towards the concrete quayside.

“Brace!” He gave his passengers one final warning, while offering up a prayer that they didn’t succeed in saving themselves. Hoping someone died was never a good thing, and his grandmother would have given him a stern lecture if she’d known what he was thinking. Although, in this situation, he thought she might actually agree with him. Especially as he wasn’t planning to survive the crash himself.

Then the solid concrete rose up to meet them.

The left landing skid hit the ground, hooking on a crack in the concrete surface and pulling the bird hard to the left. The nose of the helicopter swung around, then pitched sharply down. A moment later, the whole airframe flipped over to the side, tearing off the blades.

The impact of the blades jerked the helicopter further to the left and the concrete loomed large in the window next to TC.

Then his head slammed into the bulkhead, and everything simply pitched into darkness.

MPI-MPI-MPI


	6. Chapter 6

Thursday  
Afternoon, 16:37

TC jerked awake, his breathing harsh in the quiet room.

The dream had been so vivid, it was almost like being right back in the crash. A replay of last night in technicolour detail. With the added horror of knowing what was coming, but being unable to turn away. And in spite of making the decision to crash, seeing the whole sequence of events again had not been a good way to pass the time.

The heart monitor beeped frantically beside him, and he could feel the sweat cooling on his forehead.

The door swung open and Annie shot across to the bed.

“TC. What’s the matter?” Her voice was calm and gentle, her hands sure as she checked the connections on the leads and the IV.

TC shook his head mutely. Right then, he just couldn’t find the words to explain.

Annie looked over at the monitor, which was slowing as TC took a few deep breaths. She stood for a moment, observing him, then smiled.

“Nightmare?”

“Something like that.” TC admitted.

“You’re just like your friends, you know.” Annie smiled then, giving his hand a gentle pat.

“Come again?” TC was stunned. He was nothing like them. Was he?

“None of you want to talk about what bothers you.” Annie ducked her head, and TC got the impression that she felt as though she was being intrusive. “And none of you ever ask about your own injuries.”

TC shrugged one shoulder, but couldn’t quite control the slightly sheepish grin he knew was on his face.

“Although I’ve never heard either of them sing. And so well.” Annie added. “So maybe you’re not exactly like them.”

TC was stunned. She’d heard him singing? She liked it? He only sang because he enjoyed it, and he’d never really believed the guys when they said his singing was good. Maybe they hadn’t been joking after all.

“Still not talking?”

“Nope.” TC shook his head, smiling as he spoke.

What would be the point of talking, anyway? There was nothing he could tell anyone, nothing that they would believe, or that he could prove. He didn’t have a single shred of evidence.

And right now, keeping quiet was the only way to protect the people he cared about.

Maybe, once he was out of the hospital – and hopefully on parole after Katsumoto arrested him formally – he could try to find the guy who’d been in charge of last night’s robbery. He didn’t know how he was going to do that. Not yet. But if he could find that guy, then maybe he could sort everything out. If not, well, he could survive prison again.

“Then again,” Annie cut into his train of thought, “you’re easily as stubborn as them. So, yes, you’re just like your friends.”

Annie laughed as she headed out the door again, leaving TC speechless behind her, with a faint grin trying to surface on his battered face.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Thursday  
Late morning, 11:45

“He’s not going to answer my call.”

Juliet’s desk was uncharacteristically cluttered, and for once, she hadn’t even commented on the mess. Her own cup of coffee had joined the two for Thomas and Rick, along with three bottles of water. Her laptop was open and humming quietly, while scattered sheets of paper littered one corner of the wooden expanse, along with the discarded pen Rick had dropped there in frustration some ten minutes earlier.

Rick had been writing down the letters and numbers from TC’s note in various combinations, getting more morose with every failed attempt, which was why every sheet of paper looked as though a chicken had walked across an ink pad and then wandered around in a drunken stupor.

On any other day, Juliet would have teased him about his dreadful handwriting, but today she simply didn’t have it in her to say anything.

Magnum had hitched his left hip on the desk and was currently staring morosely at his phone. His words lingered in the air, and Juliet had to hide her amusement. Magnum had offered to call Katsumoto and find out exactly what TC was accused of, but now that the moment had come, his reluctance had grown.

The man could pretend that nothing got to him – outside of Hannah – but she’d learned that the façade was actually paper-thin, if you just knew what signs to look for.

“Buck up, Magnum.” She hoped her tone would snap him out of the regret he was once again wallowing in, and carried on. “TC needs us to find answers.”

“I know.” Magnum sighed and hit the dial button on the screen. He eased himself off the desk, favouring his left leg ever-so-slightly as he walked across the room to stare out the window.

Zeus and Apollo rose from their position behind Juliet’s desk and followed him at a distance of about six feet. They’d seldom been further than that from Magnum since Higgins had tasked them with watching the investigator and making sure he didn’t injure his healing leg. Magnum had become so accustomed to their presence that he seemed not to even notice them any longer.

Higgins wondered how long that would last after the lads realised that Magnum was now healed, and once again fair game. She was looking forward to the hijinks, just as soon as Magnum stopped favouring his newly-healed leg.

“Katsumoto. Please don’t hang up on me.”

Long seconds of silence ensued, and Magnum’s head dropped.

“I know you don’t have to tell me anything. I know you don’t want to, but this is TC.” Magnum raised his head again, going back to staring blindly at the ocean. “He helped save your life. You owe him something for that.”

Magnum pulled the phone slightly away from his ear, and Higgins could hear Katsumoto’s tone, even if she couldn’t make out the words. When the detective stopped speaking, Magnum put the phone back to his ear again.

“All I want to know is what he’s accused of, and why you believe he did it.” Magnum kept his tone even and quiet, although the way he clenched the fingers of his free hand gave away the emotions he was controlling.

Two minutes of affirmative noises followed, then Magnum sighed.

“Thank you, Katsumoto.”

He ended the call, and stood for a moment. She watched him straighten his spine and settle his shoulders before he turned around and started to talk.

“Okay.” Magnum faced her and Rick, and laid out the facts.

“Katsumoto says that a company in The Waves was robbed last night. They deal mainly in diamonds, with a small side-line in other precious stones. There was no unauthorised access to the building from the ground, but security recorded a rooftop door being opened. By the time they got there, the door was closed again and they assumed it was a system glitch.”

“Only it wasn’t.” Rick muttered, his tone indicating he knew where this story was going.

“You got it.” Magnum nodded. “It was some sort of outside override of the security system.”

“Video footage shows a black helicopter with no running lights landing on the roof at around the same time. Apparently, you can see that there are four people on board, but only two get out. They avoid the cameras, so there are no clear images of their faces. Two people stayed in the chopper, but there’s no clear image of the one in the back. And the only face clear in the camera footage, is-”

“TC’s face.” Higgins finished the sentence for him.

“This just screams set-up.” Rick was pacing now, thinking out loud. “They obviously needed him to fly the chopper, and they found a way to force him to do it.”

“Yeah.” Magnum agreed. “Us.”

“Nothing else makes sense.” Higgins agreed. “So we need to know what threat they used, find a way to neutralise it, and then let TC know. Once he knows that we’re all safe, he can tell Katsumoto whatever he knows.”

Magnum headed back towards her desk, clearly about to say something when his phone chimed with a message. Rick’s phone chimed almost simultaneously, and Higgins couldn’t hide the grin at how they both stopped dead and stared at their phone screens.

Flummoxed was such a lovely word.

“Did you just get a message from Milford?” Rick sounded stunned.

“Yeah. You too?” Magnum waited for Rick’s nod, and asked, “Does yours also say: Your friend is protecting you all. But he doesn’t know from whom’?”

“Exactly.” Rick nodded.

“Well, that answers that question.” Higgins felt pleased to know that they’d worked out TC’s reasoning. “Now, let’s see about identifying the real culprit here.”

She turned back to her laptop, seeing the look the two men exchanged. She didn’t look up even for a moment as she worked on worming her way into the Honolulu Police Department servers. She had no end of respect for Katsumoto and his people, but they had other high-priority cases as well. The people in this room had only one priority.

Hacking the police servers was tricky work, especially as she had to cover her tracks almost as soon as she made them. The impatience bleeding off the two men hovering around the desk wasn’t helping, either.

“Scat, both of you.”

“Scat?” Magnum queried. “What kind of a word is that?”

“Leave. Go away.” Higgins didn’t even look in their direction. “This … hovering … isn’t helping. So go somewhere else.”

“Come on, Thomas.” Rick saw the humour in that, at least, and dragged Magnum behind him as he left. “Let’s go make something to eat.”

“Right now?” The incredulous tone was clear.

“Yes. Now.” Rick was firm. “Once Jules finds us something to start with, we’re not going to stop until we get answers. And we need to eat, because coffee alone isn’t going to be enough.”

Juliet flicked a glance at Rick and met his gaze long enough to nod agreement at his reasoning. Then she focussed back on the screen, shutting out all distractions.

Twenty minutes later, she tapped one final key on the laptop. She leaned back in her seat, rolling her shoulders to loosen the muscles. Her attention shifted to the side of the desk, where a plate with a sandwich sat waiting. She stared at it for a moment, sure that she didn’t remember it being placed there. She looked up and saw two faintly amused and bemused faces watching her.

“How did you not know we were here?” Rick asked.

“And don’t you realise how dangerous it is to lose track of your surroundings like that?” Magnum sounded almost angry, but she heard the worry underneath the words.

“I knew you two were here, and nothing is getting past you. So I could put all my attention where it was needed.”

Those simple words derailed any argument that had been brewing, and actually managed to slightly embarrass both men. If they didn’t know by now that she trusted them both with her life, she guessed that they’d learned that fact now.

“And it paid off. I got the video from the Police Department servers. And access to the traffic camera network. And they will never even know that I was there.” Higgins knew she sounded smug, but she felt she was justified. Magnum and Rick also seemed suitably impressed, which was a nice compliment to her skills.

She pulled the plate towards her and made short work of the food, while the two men did the same with their food. Once the plates were stacked on a nearby table, she motioned the two men to get behind her so that they could see the footage as well.

The video was slightly blurred and very dim, but thanks to the security lighting on the roof of The Waves, TC’s face was clearly visible. Along with a blurred figure in the seat diagonally behind him.

Higgins fiddled with the keyboard for a moment, freezing the video so that she could zoom in on that area of the screen. Which made the image look even worse, the resolution disappearing into a mass of blocky, pixelated squares.

“Damn.” Magnum sighed.

“Patience.” Higgins tapped a few more keys and pulled up a software programme she’d used often in her previous line of work. She dragged the image into the window that popped up, and set the programme running, minimising it to the bottom of the screen.

“We’ll just let that run, while we have a look at the traffic cameras.” She tipped her head towards Rick. “What did Shammy say about TC staring at the road?”

“That TC was acting odd, but that he said he was fine.” Rick thought for a moment. “That it was Friday morning, early.”

“He left from here on Friday morning.” Magnum added, nodding. “Early, just before sunrise.”

“So he would have been at work around six in the morning.” Higgins turned back to her laptop and typed in search parameters. Moments later she pulled up the relevant feed and let it play. At just after 06:00, according to the timestamp, they saw TC’s van turn off the road and into the lot at Island Hoppers.

Seconds later, a Chevy Suburban turned into the same road and rolled slowly down the tarmac, following the same path as TC had done. After passing the entrance to the lot, the vehicle turned at the next road and disappeared. No other vehicles appeared and nothing odd showed up on the video. Higgins skipped through another ten minutes of footage, but the road remained empty.

She backed the video up again, freezing it on the image of the Suburban.

“A black Suburban. That’s the only thing TC could have been looking at.”

“Black.” Rick mused, then suddenly grabbed for the clipboard under the papers on the corner of the desk. “That’s it! TC’s a genius.”

“Not that I’m arguing,” Magnum chipped in, “but, he is?”

“Here.” Rick flipped the checklist over the pointed out the row of letters and numbers – ‘DJ 8 6/9 ZZ – black’ – that they’d not been able to understand. “TC left us part of the answer. Part of a plate number.”

“That car is black. Or at least, it looks like it is.” Magnum admitted, looking at the video again.

“You think the plate number is for that vehicle.” Higgins dropped the quiet question into the conversation.

Rick nodded, and Higgins started manipulating the footage. Eventually, she had highlighted the plate and refined the image as much as possible. Unfortunately, a splash of mud covered some of the lettering, so the only numbers they could read that matched TC’s notes were the ‘DJ 8’ and the ‘ZZ’. The number TC hadn’t been sure of was completely hidden, but the final number was clearly a 3.

“We’re only missing one number.” Magnum looked the happiest she had seen him since Doctor Carlson had given him good news that morning.

“And we have everything else in the correct order.” Higgins nodded.

“I have a friend at the DMV.” Rick offered. “Let me see how many black Chevy Suburbans are registered, using every variation of that number.”

Rick moved away to make the call, and Higgins looked up to see Magnum staring at the frozen image on the screen.

“This has been going on for a week, whatever it is. And he didn’t tell any of us.” He sounded both sad and concerned. “Why not?”

“Could it be that he just wasn’t sure a week ago that there was anything to worry about?” Higgins hated the idea that Magnum and Rick would both be blaming themselves for missing something that affected TC. She wasn’t exactly thrilled at the thought that she’d missed whatever was going on as well.

“I suppose.” Magnum signed. Then he pointed at the screen. “Your laptop’s flashing.”

Higgins looked at the screen and realised that the software had finished running on the facial image. She pulled the file up, and Magnum shook his head in admiration.

“Geez, Higgins. The HPD would kill for this software.” Magnum’s comment had Rick ending his call and moving to see the image on the screen.

“Wow, Jules.” Rick was impressed as well, and Higgins smiled as she ducked her head.

“Yes, well. Aside from that, though, do either of you know this man?”

Both men stared hard at the image, then shook their heads. Higgins sighed. It had been too much to hope that the man might have targeted TC because he knew him. Or because he knew TC’s friends.

They would have to keep digging. The question was, where to start?

“TC is in the hospital.” Magnum stated unexpectedly.

“We’re aware.” Higgins let the sarcasm have free reign.

“Yeah, okay.” Magnum muttered, then spoke louder. “What I meant is that if he was hurt in the crash, the other guys must have been as well.”

“Only they’re not in the hospital.” Rick pointed out.

“If you’d just committed a robbery, would you go the nearest hospital?” Magnum shot back, a challenge in his voice.

“No.” Higgins answered. “But how does that help us?”

“When I was working on that case for TC – Hani and Mak – I ran into some doctors who aren’t exactly legal any more. If you see what I mean.” Magnum rested his hip on the desk again, and explained. “They are doctors, been to med school and everything, but they’re not allowed to practice because they’ve, you know ...”

“Ah, yes.” Higgins nodded. “The Medical Council has removed their licences.”

“Bingo. So, some of them still work as doctors. Off the book, helping out people who can’t go to hospitals. Usually after shootings, but I figure it can’t hurt to ask around.”

Magnum pulled out his phone, scrolling through his list of contacts to find the right person to call, stopping at one name before shaking his head and continuing down the list.

“You know, Magnum, sometimes you’re really not as dumb as you pretend to be.” Higgins just had to point the fact out.

That earned her an eye-roll, as the man in question headed out of the office to make his calls.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Thursday  
Mid-afternoon, 15:10

Magnum walked out of Juliet’s office and onto the lawn, stopping in the sunlight and staring at the ocean down at the far edge of the estate. The sound was muted by distance, but oddly not soothing as it usually was. Now it just seemed to fuel his restless urge to do something.

The two hellhounds were right behind him, but he wasn’t overly concerned. Higgins hadn’t told them that they could chase him yet, and her word appeared to be law where their behaviour was concerned. He would never admit to her that he actually did get some measure of enjoyment out of baiting them and leading them a merry chase around the estate. Sometimes.

He looked at the name on his screen, then hit the dial button.

Two minutes later, he had a solemn promise that his contact would call back as soon as he knew anything useful.

Magnum pocketed his phone and walked slowly across the lawn. He could feel how he was still favouring his left leg slightly, but at least it no longer ached all the time.

He was missing something, he knew it. They all knew that TC had been flying that helicopter to keep them all safe. There could be no other reason. But without having any of them there to threaten, what could that man in the video have used to compel TC’s actions?

It had to be a threat that seemed real and dangerous enough to make TC think that he had no other option. So clearly, a threat on all their lives. But how to enforce that threat from a distance?

Magnum paced slowly back up the lawn, crossing onto the paved area where all the cars were parked. His eyes ran over the Range Rover and Rick’s car, then over the Ferrari as well. He was looking forward to driving that again very soon. Feeling the wind rush past, the sunshine warm on his skin. Freedom.

He turned to head back into the house, then spun around to look at the vehicles again.

It was so obvious.

He headed to the Range Rover first, stopping right in front of the car and taking in every detail. Looking for anything odd, or out of place. There was nothing odd inside the car, of that he was sure. If there had been, Higgins would have said so, immediately and with the appropriate levels of sarcasm and disdain.

Which meant that whatever he was looking for wasn’t easily visible. So underneath the car, then.

He eased himself down onto one knee, then leaned forward to look under the engine compartment of the car. Nothing seemed out of place, and nothing drew his attention. He repeated the process on the passenger side and at the rear of the car, netting the same results.

Then he moved to the driver’s side and took a good look. A chill raced down his spine.

The vindication of being right was offset by thinking of what TC must have felt when he’d learned about this. No wonder their friend had complied and flown that helicopter.

Magnum lay down on his back, sliding his head under the car to get a better look at the object. Clearly an explosive device of some sort, wired to what looked like a burner phone. He followed the wires with his eyes, letting his finger trace the patterns in the air as he considered how best to remove the device.

He eased his phone out of his pocket and took a quick series of shots, highlighting both the device and how and where it was connected to the chassis. Then he slid the phone back into his pocket so that he had both hands free.

After another minute’s careful study, he reached up to gently touch the device. He wasn’t concerned that he could set it off, as they’d been all the way to Honolulu and back already in the car that morning. If a slight jolt were going to set it off, that would have happened by now.

Working by feel alone, he carefully detached the device from the chassis, then laid it on the ground next to the Range Rover.

He slid out from under the chassis, pulled himself to his feet and headed for Rick’s car. Wasting no time, he went straight to the driver’s side and slid under the car.

An identical device was attached to that chassis. He took another set of photographs. Moments later, that device lay on the paving too.

A quick visit to the Ferrari netted a third set of photographs and a third device.

Magnum was willing to bet there’d be a fourth explosive attached to the Island Hoppers van.

When he had all three explosive devices laid out on the paving, he took more detailed photographs with his phone. Then he carefully disconnected the burner phones from the devices, making sure not to touch anything other than those wires. Maybe Katsumoto could get fingerprints from the phone casings or the explosives themselves. Probably not, but there was always a chance.

He considered yelling to Rick, but then saw the Dobermans sitting on the grass at the edge of the paving. Why not make use of them instead?

“Zeus. Apollo.” Two sets of ears pricked sharply, and the dark eyes lasered in on him. “Fetch Higgins. Fetch Rick.”

Two considering stares met his eyes. Intimidating, to say the least.

“Higgins. Rick.” He repeated the names, and then watched as the two dogs made a beeline for the house.

Moments later, Rick came rushing outside, Higgins trailing behind him. Zeus and Apollo brought up the rear, looking as smug as dogs could look. Rick and Higgins pulled up short at the sight of the explosives laid out on the paving.

“Oh, man.” Rick breathed. “No wonder TC did it.”

“Quite.” Higgins agreed. “I think this should be more than enough to make Detective Katsumoto pay attention.”

“Maybe.” Magnum had to believe that it would be. Even if Katsumoto hated him personally, this should be enough to show him that TC hadn’t been a willing participant the night before. “I’ve got photographs of everything.”

“Well, don’t stand there dithering. Send them to him.” Higgins ordered, before softening her tone a little. “I know how you feel, Magnum, but he needs to know this.”

“I know.” Magnum sighed. He hated how unsure he felt about his relationship with Katsumoto at the moment, and he’d yet to work out how to fix the damage he’d done. But TC was more important than his worries, far more important than his petty concerns.

He attached all the images to a single message, tapped in a quick note explaining what the detective would be looking at, where he’d found all the devices, and then hit send.

“But I still want to know who’s behind this.” Magnum muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

“Oh, I agree.” Higgins was emphatic. “Rick, has your contact found anything yet?”

“I would have heard the notification.” Rick patted his pocket, his expression comically astonished when he couldn’t find it. “I must have left it on your desk when the dogs called us out here.”

He headed back into the house to find it, and Higgins turned a knowing eye on the explosives. Magnum recognised that look, as he’d seen it on the faces of many colleagues before.

“Whoever this is, he wasn’t playing games. This would have totally destroyed each vehicle.” Juliet’s opinion was a professional one, and Magnum couldn’t fault it.

“It would. And TC would have known that.” Magnum agreed. “I wish I could be angry at him. But any of us would have made the same choice.”

Higgins nodded, then indicated the way back to the house. Magnum nodded and watched her start back. He lingered another few moments, looking at the devices, then turned to follow her.

He pulled up the call log on his phone, finger hovering over Katsumoto’s number, wondering if he should follow up his message with a call. But while he hesitated, the phone rang instead, screen lighting up with the name of the contact he’d called earlier.

A wave of anticipation rolled through him, and he answered the call.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Thursday  
Late afternoon, 17:20

Rick snatched his phone up from the corner of the desk, seeing the notification on the screen immediately. He thumbed the whole message open, and skimmed through it. A smile grew on his face as he got to the end of the text.

Finally, something useful.

“Hey, guys.” He called out, knowing that they were just behind him.

“You have something?” Juliet’s voice had him spinning around.

“Yeah, I think so.” He glanced past her, and tipped his head in a question. “Where’s Thomas?”

“I think I heard his phone ring.” Higgins lifted a shoulder. “He’ll probably be here in a minute.”

“You’ll both want to hear this.” Rick was excited at sharing his news. It was one step closer to getting the truth and proving TC’s innocence.

“And you’ll both want to hear this, too.” Magnum hurried in, catching Rick’s comment. He pointed to Rick’s phone and tipped his head in a silent question.

“My friend at the DMV.” Rick lifted the phone slightly. There are only two Suburbans with plates that could match the numbers we have. One is black and one is dark blue.”

Higgins raised an eyebrow, while Magnum offered a quizzical look.

“TC could have been wrong on the colour at that time of morning.” Rick shrugged. “Not likely, I know, but I wanted to cover all the bases.”

The other two nodded, and Rick went on.

“The dark blue one is registered to a school, so I really don’t think that’s the one TC saw. The other one, the black one, is registered to a property management company in Honolulu. Want to guess the kicker?”

Higgins shook her head, but Magnum’s eyes lit up.

“Related to waterfront property, I’d bet.”

“You’d win that bet, hands down. The company that manages The Waves.” Rick knew he was grinning madly, but this news was too good not to celebrate.

“So, an inside job.” Higgins mused. “But not too bright to use a vehicle registered to a company related to the building you plan to rob.”

“No-one ever said this guy was smart.” Magnum broke in. “If he were, he’d have found another pilot.”

“I wonder who has access to those vehicles?” Higgins murmured, settling in front of her laptop again. A few searches later, she skimmed quickly down a page of information.

Rick saw the dawning pleasure on her face, and waited impatiently for her to speak again.

“Well, I was right on the money.” Higgins looked very pleased with herself.

“Tell us already, Jules.” Rick’s patience was gone by now.

“The only people who can use those vehicles are registered employees of the property management company – maintenance, security, that sort of thing. And this particular vehicle was tagged leaving The Waves yesterday afternoon, but it’s not been tagged back into the building yet.”

“Any idea who took it out?” Rick shot the question out before Magnum could.

“No. The system only records which area took the vehicle, so all I know is that it was someone who works in the Security department.”

“Go, Higgins.” Magnum almost cheered. “Is there anything you can’t find?”

Rick had to laugh at that. But seeing the leashed excitement on Magnum’s face, he pointed at the investigator’s phone, and asked “So?”

“That off-the-books doctor I called earlier? He called me back just now.” Magnum met Rick’s eyes, satisfaction writ clear in that look.

“He heard about a guy, out near Sand Island – where Katsumoto said TC crashed – who had three guys show up at his place last night. Very late last night. He said he heard the injuries were bad, looked like a car crash of some sort. He sent me an address. Anyone feel like taking a drive?”

The innocent-sounding question belied the barely-controlled rage Rick could see in Magnum’s every movement. He glanced over at Higgins, only to see the same leashed fury there.

He wondered for a moment if Thomas and Jules realised just how much they were alike? But he liked breathing, so there was no way he was planning to point it out to either of them.

“Definitely.” Rick nodded. “Should we call Katsumoto?”

“When we get there. If there’s anything there to find.” Magnum answered. Rick shot him a glare and Magnum shrugged. “If there’s nothing there, he’ll just think we’re trying to get in the way. I’d rather be sure about what we have before I risk getting him mad at us – mad at me. That won’t help TC.”

Rick wanted to argue, but the flash of misery in Magnum’s eyes derailed him. He wished there was some way to make the detective understand that Magnum had actually being trying to help Katsumoto by not involving him in the situation with Hannah.

Telling Katsumoto the truth would be the best thing to do – explain to the man that Magnum hadn’t gone off half-cocked, but with a decent plan and solid backup. But that would involve mentioning all the military personnel who had been involved. And injured pride was hard to deal with at any time, for any reason. Especially in someone as self-contained and controlled as Katsumoto.

“Okay.” Rick agreed slowly. “But we call as soon as we see anything he could use. Promise me.”

“I promise.” Magnum nodded and Rick mimicked the movement in return.

“Now that we have that settled,” Higgins broke in, busy settling her gun into the waistband of her jeans, “how about you collect your weapons, gents? I believe we have a party to crash.”

Magnum headed off at once, angling towards the guest house as soon as he was outside. Higgins watched for a moment, assessing how well the detective’s left leg was holding up and seeing no more than a very minor hitch in his stride. She picked up the keys to the Range Rover, and dangled them from one finger.

“Shall I drive?”

Rick nodded and followed her out to the cars. He paused next to his car for a moment, reaching in to retrieve his weapon from its hiding place. By the time he was finished settling it comfortably under his shirt, Magnum had reappeared and they piled into the Range Rover together.

Magnum read out the address from his phone, words clipped and terse.

“I’ll need directions once we get closer to Sand Island.” Higgins spoke as she dropped the car into gear.

“I’ll pull up a map now.” Rick offered from his spot behind her, suiting actions to words by pulling up the satnav on his phone. Higgins nodded her thanks and seconds later, they were heading out of the gates at considerable speed.

Rick settled his phone on an upraised knee and watched the little red dot representing their vehicle get closer to Sand Island. He ignored the scenery outside the vehicle.

He kept his eyes fastened on the screen, trying to move the little dot faster by pure willpower alone.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too late to find someone, or some evidence, to help TC.

But he had the unsettling feeling that time was running out.

MPI-MPI-MPI


	7. Chapter 7

Thursday  
Early evening, 18:05

Roger Hull was livid.

All his planning, brought to nothing. All the time he’d spent at that low-level security job, putting up with snooty business owners and the arrogant people in the property management office. People who thought that they were better than him.

All of it, brought to absolutely nothing.

He couldn’t even blame the pilot of the helicopter. Calvin had warned them about the wind, he’d said that flying in those conditions was dangerous. But what he’d heard about the man through his contacts at the HPD had made him think that Calvin could manage to get them back to Sand Island safely.

The fact that the man had almost succeeded didn’t lessen his anger over the whole fiasco.

The only good thing about the whole evening – and there was one good thing – was that he still had the bag of diamonds. If he could just get off the island with the diamonds, he’d be able to settle into his retirement as planned.

It didn’t look as though his two temporary employees were going to be as lucky, but that wasn’t really a concern in his life. To be honest, they didn’t actually look as though they’d survive the night. He was surprised they’d lasted the day out.

He’d made it out of the wreck of the helicopter in remarkably good condition, all things considered. The headache was brutal and the bruise on the side of his face was a lovely shade of purple, but that could all be blamed on a car accident. He had no broken bones, no major injuries.

The off-books doctor who owned this converted garage had known better than to turn them away when they’d arrived at his door last night. Roger knew enough about the man’s activities to ensure co-operation.

Al Sindel had lost his licence because he’d been running a black-market prescription drug network from his office. Losing his licence had only made his illegal business stronger. And sorting out gunshots and other injuries for various members of the criminal element paid a nice cash dividend as well.

Al had been only to eager to help last night. Especially when he learned that Roger was planning to leave the island permanently, and that this would be the last time the ex-cop would use Al’s past against him to compel his medical care.

Al had checked Roger over first, pronouncing him shaken and mildly concussed, but basically healthy enough.

Henri and Pravin had fared less well. Henri had seemed fine when they’d crawled out of the crashed helicopter. He been mobile and aware, but things had gone downhill since then. Now he simply lay on the cot in the corner, totally unresponsive, arms wrapped around his chest and breathing in wheezing gulps.

Pravin had a broken arm, at the very least, and what seemed to Roger to be a serious head injury. He been confused since they’d fled the crash site, and made their way back to the warehouse for the Suburban. Now Pravin was muttering incessantly, repetitive phrases in multiple languages. That suggested some sort of serious brain injury.

He wanted to shoot them both.

But that would make it obvious that they’d been involved in something criminal. His best option was to just leave them behind and let them die from their injuries. When someone eventually found their corpses, their injuries would suggest a car accident.

There was no chance that they’d be alive tomorrow to tell the police where he’d gone. And he could live with that. In fact, he was counting on it.

Roger stared out through the small window of the converted garage. The garage was a dank, miserable space, with minimal lighting and no creature comforts at all.

There were two cots against the back wall, each currently occupied by his two soon-to-be-dead employees. There were two chairs, and four blank concrete walls, with just this one small window.

The only place with decent lighting was the surgical table in the middle of the room, under a massively bright light which Al kept switched off when it wasn’t in use.

Roger considered the landscape outside the window. It would be dark in another hour or so, and then he could make his move.

He’d made use of Al’s police scanner as soon as they’d arrived at the doctor’s workplace. He’d heard the police callout to the scene of the crash, as well as the news that Calvin had survived and had been taken to hospital.

That was a loose end he couldn’t afford.

As soon as it was dark enough to leave without being noticed, he would take the Suburban and pay a visit to the hospital.

He’d liberated two vials of morphine from Al’s supplies earlier, without the doctor noticing what he was doing. He’d loaded one vial into a syringe, replacing the cap over the needle. Then he’d slipped the other vial and syringe into the bag containing the diamonds. Insurance.

Half an hour ago, Al had checked on his patients again, this time suggesting that the two seriously injured men should be taken to hospital because their injuries were beyond what he could safely treat.

Obviously, that was never going to be an option.

So Roger had tested the efficacy of a morphine overdose by injecting the first syringe into Al’s neck when the man turned away from him. Death had come surprisingly quickly, removing one more person who might have felt the need to talk to the police at some point.

When the shadows closed in more tightly around the garage, Roger gathered up his bag of diamonds and the car keys. He ran his gaze over the room one more time, making sure he’d left no clue that pointed to his presence there.

Then he slipped out the door, locked it behind him and headed to the Suburban. He settled the bag on the seat beside him, checking the contents one more time. Diamonds. And a single vial and syringe, both ready for use. Perfect.

He had one more person to take care of, then he’d be on his way to a wealthy and peaceful retirement.

He started the engine, pulled out slowly onto the quiet road, and aimed the Suburban towards the hospital.

His mind churned, running possible scenarios for getting into Calvin’s room. His years of police experience provided the perfect insight into the security he’d be dealing with and how best to bypass it all.

Once he’d made it into the room, he simply had to inject the contents of the syringe into whatever drip was available.

Calvin was going to meet his maker before the night was over.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Thursday  
Evening, 19:15

Magnum peered through the lengthening shadows at the deserted building in front of them. Higgins had followed Rick’s directions to the letter, bringing them to this empty street and the desolate-looking building set well back from the road.

There were no lights on in the bare lot outside the building, which looked to have been a garage at some point in its history. The windows of the building were boarded up, as was the front door.

Nothing moved. Nothing human, at least. A faint movement in the weeds at the edge of the tarmac drew Magnum’s attention. He squinted hard and shuddered. Two mangy rats stared insolently back at him before scuttling deeper into the shadows.

He popped his door open and stepped out of the Range Rover, hearing Rick and Higgins doing the same.

A prickle ran over the back of his neck, and he didn’t even think before pulling his gun out and thumbing the safety off. Two identical snicking sounds told him that Rick and Higgins felt the same odd tension in the air.

He moved off to the right, eyes sweeping the ground and the space in front of him. He rounded the corner of the building, seeing the closed door immediately. He moved closer to the wall, easing his way to the door, but hearing nothing.

Moments passed, and he turned his head to see Rick listening intently as well. He met Rick’s gaze and the other man shook his head. If Rick couldn’t hear anything, there was nothing to be heard.

He reached out and gently tested the door handle, finding it locked. Before he’d even had the chance to look in her direction, Higgins was at his side, gun already tucked back into her waistband.

She crouched down in front of the door, eyes intent and fingers deft. Seconds later, she’d silently picked the lock.

Magnum nodded his thanks, remembering with a grin all the times she’d told him how much better she was at picking locks than he was. He was good at picking locks, but with her small hands and delicate movements, he had to admit that she was quicker. Not that he was ever planning to tell her that; she’d never let him live it down.

He eased the door open, moving slowly and quietly. There was no resistance, and he slipped through the door, waiting a moment to see if his eyes could adapt enough to see anything in the gloom.

That was when he heard the wheezing. And the muttering. Both sounds on the far side of the room.

He moved away from the door, following the nearest wall. He could hear his friends coming through the door behind him. He ran his hand along the wall and found a light switch.

“Mind your eyes.” His murmur was barely a whisper.

He shut his own eyes and flicked the switch. He gave his eyes a moment to register the light through his closed eyelids, then opened them, gun already raised and ready to fire.

He almost stepped on a body.

He nudged the body gently with his foot, but knew immediately that the person was dead. That sort of relaxation didn’t come about any other way.

He rolled the man onto his back and looked at his face. Not the man from the video. And not injured. Which meant he was probably the doctor who owned this decrepit establishment. Had owned, rather.

On the far side of the room, two men were on separate cots. One was making the wheezing sound, while the other muttered incessantly.

Rick circled the room slowly in the opposite direction, opening the only other door to find a small, dingy bathroom. He finally made it to the two men, giving them a quick visual survey.

“Thomas. Call the cops.” Rick’s voice was urgent. “These guys don’t have long.”

“Already done.” Higgins cut in, her phone to her ear, waiting to relay their location and other details to the operator.

Magnum put the safety back on his gun and shoved it back into his waistband, automatically pulling his shirt over the grip. He headed straight across the room to Rick, dropping into a matching crouch next to Rick.

“You think these are the other two guys from the chopper?” Magnum’s question suggested he had no doubt.

“I’d bet good money.” Rick nodded. “You could try to pass these injuries off as something from a car accident, but given where we are and what we already know – these are two of the guys from that video.”

“Which begs the question, where’s the last guy?” Magnum wondered.

“No need to bet, Rick.” Higgins said. “Don’t move, either of you.”

Magnum froze, confused by the order. He could feel Rick do the same next to him.

“What’s going on, Higgins?”

The blonde woman crossed the floor slowly, eyes on the ground, then bent down and picked up something from the ground between the two men.

“This.” She held out her hand, showing them the small, shiny stone on her palm. “A diamond.”

“Can we move now, Jules?” Rick asked.

“Of course.” Higgins answered. “I just needed the light to find the stone, and I didn’t want you two casting shadows.”

Magnum looked at the stone, then glanced at his friends, seeing the same lack of understanding on both their faces. Sure, the diamond was pretty – and valuable – but was it really worth a single human life?

“Detective Katsumoto is on the way.” Higgins spoke, pulling their attention back to the men in front of them. “I suggested that he might want to prioritise medical care for these two gents.”

“I’d just as soon let them die.” Rick’s mutter was quiet.

“I’m not sure that I disagree with you.” Higgins nodded.

“I’d rather they lived.” Magnum disagreed, sensing the surprise. “Knowing TC, he must have crashed on purpose. I don’t want him to have these two’s deaths on his conscience.”

“You’re right.” Rick sighed. “I know you’re right, but still …”

“Indeed.” Higgins nodded.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want them to suffer.” Magnum said. “When they get to Halawa, how about you give Icepick a heads-up?”

Juliet’s chuckle was almost drowned out by Rick’s snort of laughter and answering comment.

“And everyone thinks that I’m the devious one.”

“On that note, though,” Magnum wondered, “where do you think the last guy is? Neither of these is the guy we saw in the video.”

“So these must be the hired flunkies.” Higgins agreed. “Which means that the man behind all of this – the robbery, the explosives – is still out there somewhere.”

“And my guess is that the dead guy over by the door is the doctor.” Magnum was thinking aloud now, following scant clues and filling in the gaps with instinct.

“Now, normal people like us –”

“Who are you calling normal?” Rick joked.

“I’m insulted.” Higgins cut in too, tone amused.

Magnum shook his head, and carried on.

“We’d be looking to get away. Take the diamonds, find a fence, get the money and go somewhere without an extradition treaty.”

Two nods greeted this line of reasoning.

“But that body over there,” he indicated the corpse near the door, “tells me that this guy is cleaning house as he goes. These two aren’t going to see tomorrow. Or rather, they weren’t, but now that we’ve found them, they might.” He looked at the two men again, shook his head slightly as he added a quiet wish. “For TC’s sake, I hope they do.”

“I’m with you so far.” Higgins agreed, Rick nodding as well.

“Which leads me to the only person who can still ruin this guy’s plans. TC.” Magnum’s tone was sombre now. “I’m betting this guy is going to go after TC before he runs.”

“But he’s under guard at the hospital.” Higgins broke in, shaking her head. “There’s no way he’s going to get into TC’s room.”

“We can hope.” Rick agreed, tipping his head to the side. “The cops are almost here. Sirens.”

Magnum strained his ears, catching a very faint sound in the distance. He smiled at Rick and nodded to Higgins.

“He’s right. A couple of minutes, they’ll be here.”

Higgins looked at them both and rolled her eyes.

“It’s like being in a belfry, surrounded by bats.”

Rick snorted at that, and Magnum smiled at her.

“Hey, Higgins, do you happen to have that video on your phone?”

“You know I do, Magnum. Have you learned nothing about me in the last year?” The tone was dry, but her eyes showed her amusement.

“Could you have it ready to show Katsumoto when he gets here?”

“Of course.” Higgins tapped a few times on the screen of her phone, then nodded. “And I can send him a copy immediately after he’s seen it.”

“Thanks.”

The sirens were now loud and clear, and all three of them headed outside to direct the paramedics to the patients.

The ambulances pulled in first, closely followed by Katsumoto’s plain, dark car. The detective was out of the car as soon as the engine died, heading towards them with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“I thought I told you to stay out of this, Magnum.” The words were harsh, but Magnum did his best to ignore that.

“You did.” He answered quietly, nodding. “But finding explosives underneath all our cars involved us all. We didn’t ask for this.”

Katsumoto glared at him again, but gave him a grudging nod in acceptance of that fact.

“So why are you here?” The detective waved a hand at the garage.

“We found some information that led us here.” Higgins offered, nodding at Magnum as she spoke. He tipped his head to her in gratitude. “I will send you everything by email.”

Magnum looked at her phone and she nodded to him.

“Before that, Detective, would you mind watching this?” She held out her phone and Magnum held his breath for a moment before Katsumoto moved to look at the screen.

“How did you get this footage?” Katsumoto demanded, then cut himself off with a sharp movement of one hand. “You know, I don’t want to know.”

Magnum couldn’t hold back a tiny smile at that, sensing the conflict in the other man. At least he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the situation.

He kept his eyes trained on Katsumoto as the man watched the video, seeing every twitch of his eyelids and every time the man suppressed the urge to speak. Until the last frames of the video, when the enhanced video clearly showed the face of the man behind TC.

“It can’t be.”

“Wait. You know him?” Magnum knew he sounded shocked, and he could see the same emotion on Rick’s face, in Juliet’s eyes.

“It can’t be.” Katsumoto stared harder at the screen, then slowly shook his head. “It is.”

“Who is it?” Higgins pulled the phone away and started tapping on the screen, sending all the information to Katsumoto’s email.

“Roger Hull. Former Detective Roger Hull. He used to do a lot of undercover work. Until last year.” The shock kept Katsumoto’s voice a dull monotone.

“Former?” Magnum jumped on the word.

“Yeah. Former.” Katsumoto rubbed a hand across his eyes and sighed. “He was fired last year. I never worked with him myself, but I know a few people who did. Roger had a reputation for being a bit … heavy-handed.”

“By which you mean that he is prone to violence?” Higgins asked, tone pointedly polite.

“I do.” Katsumoto confirmed. “There were a number of complaints made to the department about him, all due to the use of excessive force. I did hear a rumour that he also used to blackmail some of his informants into doing things for him, but as far as I know, that is just a rumour.”

Rapid movements and loud voices heading their way had them all stepping back as the paramedics rushed past with the two injured men on gurneys. Katsumoto stopped dead as the one man passed in front of him, and Magnum saw the recognition on the detective’s face.

“You know him, too.” The comment was quiet.

“Yes. He’s a safe cracker. Henri Fontaine.” Katsumoto shook his head. “So I guess that rumour was true then.”

“Explain that.” Rick asked.

“Henri Fontaine has been implicated in a number of robberies, but he always slides away. Not enough evidence, no witnesses.”

“Roger Hull was helping him.” Magnum deduced. “In return for him doing jobs for Hull.”

“It looks that way.” Katsumoto agreed. Magnum could see the effort it took the other man to shake the revelation off, and understood why. Katsumoto was an honest cop. One who didn’t need the rules to keep him honest, but rather one whose own honourable nature would never allow him to do what Roger Hull had clearly done. It was a betrayal of everything Katsumoto stood for, the reasons he’d joined the police department in the first place.

“I’ll put out a BOLO on Roger Hull tonight. Hopefully, we’ll find him soon.” Katsumoto shook his head slightly. “But given that he knows how we operate, he’s probably made plans to slip through any roadblocks or lockdowns we put in place.”

“He’s a cop.” Magnum muttered suddenly, seeing the sharp look Katsumoto sent him. “Okay, ex-cop. Whatever.”

Rick and Higgins suddenly straightened up and started to move towards the Range Rover. Magnum nodded and moved to follow them.

“Where are you all going?” Katsumoto’s exasperation was showing now.

“To TC.” Magnum tossed back over his shoulder. “Hull’s cleaning house. And he would know how to get past the police security on TC.”

Then he turned his back on Katsumoto and ran to the Range Rover, which was already idling. He hopped in the door Rick had left open for him and slammed it shut as Higgins shot out into the road and headed down the same road Roger Hull had followed earlier.

“We’ll get there in time, Thomas.” Rick’s quiet words were meant to be reassuring, but fear made it hard to believe them.

“I hope so, Rick,” Magnum answered, “I really do.”

MPI-MPI-MPI


	8. Chapter 8

Thursday  
Evening, 20:25

Roger Hull forced himself to be patient.

He’d parked the Suburban in a far corner of the hospital parking lot, where it faded into the shadows of the night. He’d locked the doors and tucked the keys into the driver’s side wheel well. By now, the vehicle might have been reported as stolen by the office at The Waves. If it had been, it was better that he didn’t have the keys on his person.

If necessary, he’d use public transport to get away from the hospital. There were bus routes that would get him almost to the docks, where a smuggler who owed him a favour would take him off the island. Once he’d made his immediate getaway, he’d wait a couple of weeks for the heat to die down.

He’d transferred the package of diamonds from the bag, which he’d left in the Suburban, and tucked them into an inside pocket of his jacket. The syringe and vial were now in his outside pocket, where he had quick and easy access to them.

He’d already arranged to meet with a fence on Saturday morning, so by next week, he’d have his money, safely transferred to an offshore bank account.

He only had one more thing to do here in Honolulu.

Getting into the hospital had been child’s play. He’d waited until a small group of people had headed in through the access doors, pulling his cap down over his eyes as he’d tagged along behind them.

Once inside, he’d headed for the most harried-looking receptionist he could see, and asked for Calvin’s room number. She’d been so glad to have a simple question to answer, that she’d provided the information without even looking up at him again.

He’d taken the elevator to the floor below Calvin’s room, then used the stairs to ascend to the right floor. He’d eased the door open just enough to see that the hallway outside the door was empty, then he’d slipped out into the quiet hallway.

Clearly, visiting hours were almost over, judging by the number of people moving towards the elevators.

That could be a problem. Although having fewer potential witnesses was always better.

He strolled nonchalantly into the small waiting room diagonally opposite the nurses’ desk. Making a cup of coffee kept him occupied while he watched movements on the floor, mapped out the terrain and planned his approach.

Calvin’s room was at the far end of the hall, and he was pleased to see another stairwell just past the door. That would make his getaway even easier.

He felt in his pocket again for the syringe and vial, his need to check their presence almost obsessive. Brushing his fingers along the smooth length of the syringe and over the cool, round vial calmed him. His plan was moving ahead, every piece falling successfully into place.

The only obstacle was the police officer stationed outside the door.

He watched the door for five minutes, impressed in spite of himself at the officer’s dedication to his duty. Even the sudden sound of a shattering glass in the break room didn’t get him to move from this spot by the closed door.

He turned his attention to the break room, waiting until he knew it was empty. Then he casually walked past the door, ducking into the room at the last second. A quick look around netted him a white coat from the hook behind the door. He slipped it on over his jacket. He pulled the vial and syringe from his pocket, then, quickly pulling the contents of the vial up into the syringe before putting the cap back over the needle. He slipped the empty vial and the loaded syringe into the pocket of the white coat.

He took off his cap, folded it up and tucked it into the other pocket of the white coat. Luckily, he could approach the police officer from an angle that would allow him to keep his face partially turned away to hide the bruising.

He gave the room another searching look, then picked up a clipboard lying on the counter. The papers clipped to it were inter-departmental memos, but he didn’t think the officer would even look at them.

He kept his eyes on the papers, flipping them up and down a few times as he neared the room. He paused for a moment, just short of the door, shook his head as though he’d read something that needed clarification, then he took the final step to Calvin’s door and pushed it open.

The police officer glanced at him, saw the white coat and clipboard, and nodded once.

Roger Hull walked slowly into the room and let the door swing shut behind him.

Calvin was handcuffed to the bed, and looked to be asleep. Good. That would make this even easier.

He crossed the room quietly, took the syringe from his pocket and uncapped it, then took hold of the IV tubing. Calvin still hadn’t moved, and he waited a moment more to be sure that the man was still asleep. Then he slipped the needle into the port and depressed the plunger.

He slid the empty syringe back into his pocket, next to the vial. He kept his hand loosely clasped around both items, ready to pull them out at a moment’s notice. He would dispose of both items outside the hospital, preferably in a trash can far from the building. Maybe somewhere along the nearest bus route, if he ended up using public transport to leave the area.

Calvin was still unmoving when Roger Hull walked calmly out of the room and headed for the stairwell.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Thursday  
Evening, 20:55

Tyres squealed as Higgins swung the Range Rover into the hospital parking lot, leaving a streak of rubber behind on the road surface. She aimed the car towards the entrance, keeping a sharp eye out for pedestrians, and an empty parking spot.

Luckily, visiting hours had ended and the lot was fairly empty. She pulled into a spot in line with the door, Rick and Magnum opening their doors before she’d even had a chance to kill the engine. As she swung out of the car herself, her eyes moved over the area, looking for anything out of place.

If Roger Hull were still nearby, maybe they would be able to spot him.

A darker shadow at the far edge of the lot caught her eye, and she sharpened her gaze. A black vehicle, some sort of SUV. She wasn’t a big believer in coincidence.

“Magnum, Rick.” They slowed their race to the door for a second, looking back towards her. “Over there, see it?”

“That SUV?” Magnum asked, while Rick simply stared at the shadow.

“It’s a Chevy Suburban.” Rick was definite.

“He’s still here.” Higgins breathed the words out.

The two men were practically vibrating next to her, their need to get to TC over-riding everything else. She wanted to get to TC as well, but they couldn’t leave that vehicle there for Hull to escape in. She made the decision for all of them.

“Go. Both of you. Get to TC.” She turned away then, heading for the SUV. “I’ll be along as soon as I’ve checked that car out.”

“Okay.” Rick simply accepted the decision and turned back to the hospital.

Magnum hesitated for a second, then nodded. He followed Rick, the slight limp showing that he was straining his left leg. The fact that the doctor had told Magnum to ease into exercising his leg had clearly been ignored, and she couldn’t help the grin. Trust Magnum to only listen when it suited him. And right now, with TC in danger, it suited him not to listen.

She turned away from the door and jogged across the lot. She approached the SUV from the rear, checking the plate as soon as she got a clear view. It matched what they’d managed to get from the DMV. The vehicle appeared to be empty, possibly abandoned. She quietly moved down the passenger side, making it to the front of the vehicle unchallenged.

A parking disc on the front windshield confirmed that the vehicle was the one which had been tagged leaving The Waves the previous day. She tried the door, finding it locked. Without access to the SUV, she couldn’t disable the engine.

Well, that only left one option. She looked around for a moment, finding a broken twig on a nearby shrub. Without a second thought, she quickly unscrewed the cap on the nearest tyre and let the air out. A satisfied, gleeful grin on her face, she repeated the process on the other three wheels.

“I’d like to see you drive on those.” Her mutter was vindictive.

Then she headed straight for the hospital entrance at a quick jog.

She shot in through the doors, turning immediately towards the elevators, only to find all of them at least three floors up. Her eyes roamed the area for a moment, settling on the door to the nearby stairwell.

For a second, she thought she could hear a siren in the distance, but she couldn’t be sure.

She had the feeling that there was no time to waste, so without another thought, she dashed through the stairwell door and started up to the fifth floor, two steps at a time.

She was two floors up when she heard a door above her open and close. She increased her speed, thinking that maybe Hull was trying to use the stairs to escape. If so, she was going to make him regret that choice.

As she passed the third-floor landing, she heard what sounded like the same door opening and closing again. If she’d guessed right about Hull’s escape route, it sounded like he’d just changed his mind.

She put that out of her mind and concentrated on getting to the fifth floor as fast as she could. Less than a minute later, she swung around on the fourth-floor landing, using the handrail to control her movement and speed. She clutched harder at the rail, sliding to a halt.

Something small and shiny lay on the floor. She leaned over and picked it up, recognising the object as an empty medication vial. Unable to give a reason for her action, she shoved it into her pocket and took off up the stairs again.

Thirty seconds later, she yanked hard on the stairwell door, barely seeing the large number five painted right above the door handle. She skidded out into the hallway that ran past TC’s room.

What she saw made her freeze where she stood.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Thursday  
Evening, 21:05

Magnum rounded the corner into the corridor leading to TC’s room, his left leg aching at the pace they’d set across the parking lot and into the elevator. He’d had to lead the way, because Rick didn’t know which room TC was in. Now, Rick was on his heels as they headed straight for the officer at the door.

“Has anyone been in here?” Magnum shot the question out, hoping the shock of their arrival would get them an answer.

“Just the nurse.” The officer answered before thinking, and Magnum sighed in relief.

“Young woman, dark hair?”

“No.” The officer shook his head. “Older man, average looking.”

“He doesn’t work here.” Magnum went cold at the thought that Roger Hull had been in TC's room.

“Did you see which way he went?” Rick asked, nodding when the officer indicated the stairwell at the end of the corridor.

Magnum took a step towards the distant door, only to feel Rick pull him back.

“Thomas, I’ll go after him.” Rick shot out the order. “Don’t argue with me. You know you’re not up to running stairs yet.”

“Okay.” Magnum didn’t like it, but Rick was right. He couldn’t handle chasing Roger Hull on foot yet. “I’ll get a real nurse to check on TC.”

Rick nodded and headed for the doorway.

Magnum moved back to the nurses’ desk, hoping to spot a friendly face. He didn’t even know what to tell them to look for, but he was sure that Hull had done something to TC.

“Excuse me.” The nurse swung around to face him, and Magnum sagged against the counter in relief. “Annie.”

“What’s wrong?” She asked, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear.

“That nurse that was just in my friend’s room. TC’s room.” Magnum clarified.

“No-one’s been in there.” Annie cut him off, pulling up the chart for TC’s room. “He’s not scheduled for a check for another half hour.”

“Well, there was a guy in there just now. Older guy.”

Annie was shaking her head.

“No. There are no male nurses on shift tonight.” She grabbed TC’s chart and headed for the room, Magnum right on her heels.

She pushed past the officer without a second glance, Magnum following her without waiting for permission.

TC was laying still in the bed.

Magnum let himself relax, seeing no obvious signs of anything wrong. But his moment’s peace was shattered when Annie started checking all the machines and shaking her head.

“No. This is all wrong.” Annie’s quiet murmurs scared Magnum more than a gun aimed at his head could have done.

“Why?”

“These readings. They’re all wrong. This is too low.” Annie pointed at the heart monitor and oxygen readings. “But there’s no indication of what’s causing the readings. I’m going to call Doctor Milford.”

She left the room at a run.

Magnum stayed next to TC’s bed, watching as the two readouts that Annie was concerned about dropped lower. TC’s breathing was slowing, each breath looking like it took a massive effort to pull in. His heartrate was slowing in time with his breathing and before he’d realised it, Magnum was at the bedside, grabbing hold of TC’s hand.

“TC. Come on, bud. Hang on.” His words were ragged, filled with terror. He could see TC slipping away, each hard-fought breath taking his friend a little further along a path that he couldn’t follow. He was losing TC; he could feel it.

He couldn’t face that loss. Not after Nuzo. After Hannah, and everything else that they’d all survived in the last year.

More than that, he knew that losing TC would break Rick. Then he would lose both his brothers. Without them, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to go on.

He wasn’t sure that there was any point in going on alone. Or that he even wanted to try. So he hung onto TC’s hand, emotion clogging his words.

“You can’t do this to us. You have to fight.”

Thursday  
Evening, 21:05

Rick heard Magnum speaking at the nurses’ desk, and put that side of things out of his mind. Thomas would take care of everything behind him. He only needed to focus on what was ahead of him.

Instinct told him that Roger Hull was close, that they were closing in on the man.

And that same instinct told him that Hull would do whatever was necessary to escape. He’d left the rest of his team to die without a second thought. The man wasn’t going to surrender without a fight.

A feral grin slid onto Rick’s face at that thought.

If Hull wanted a fight, then that’s what he’d give him.

He slowed his steps as he reached the door to the stairwell. He cocked his head to the side, listening intently.

There were footsteps beyond the door.

One set was quiet and careful. Nearby.

The other set was louder, faster. And further away, but getting closer.

Rick considered the facts he had, then made the kind of leap in logic that Thomas usually specialised in.

Roger Hull had been trying to get away down the stairwell, but someone else was coming up the stairs. Which meant that Hull was trapped, with no option but to come back up to this floor. Or to go to a floor even higher up.

That thought galvanized Rick. He couldn’t let Hull make it past him. They might never find the man again, and that was simply not an option. The man had to pay for what he’d done to TC.

So Rick shoved hard on the stairwell door, just as a man took the last two steps to the landing. The door flying open startled the man, and he nearly fell on the last step, glancing up as he grabbed for the handrail.

“Roger Hull.” Rick yelled the name loudly, hoping Thomas would hear him and join him in confronting the man. But he heard nothing from Magnum at all.

That worried him. Maybe there was trouble behind him. But he trusted Thomas. With his life. With everything. So he let the worry go, and focused only on the man in front of him.

Hull ran straight at him, and Rick fell back a step, making sure to block the stairs to the next floor. He grabbed the handrail and saw Hull realise what he was doing.

Hull faked a turn towards the door, then shoved hard at Rick, his lunge knocking Rick off balance and onto one knee. The sharp, sudden pain told Rick that his knee was going to be black and blue in the morning.

But Rick hung onto the rail with everything in him, and he saw Hull change direction again and duck back out the door and onto the fifth floor again.

Rick pulled himself to his feet, grabbed the door before it swung shut and launched himself into the corridor.

Hull had already made it five feet from the door, when Rick slid into the corridor.

“You won’t get away.” Rick yelled at Hull, gratified to see the man looked worried and spooked at being recognised. “Yeah. We know who you are, and what you did.”

Hull had stopped now, facing Rick. Beyond him, Rick had a vague impression of two nurses, frozen at the desk, both with wide, scared eyes.

“You won’t get away with it.” Rick carried on. “You picked the wrong guy when you picked my friend. Our friend. And you’re going to pay for that.”

“Really?” Hull’s voice was cold and amused. “And you have proof?”

“I don’t need proof.” Rick’s voice turned cold now. “I know what you did. I know that guys like you need to be stopped. And I think that I’m just the guy to do that.”

Hull laughed.

Rick had always been a laid-back person. Life was much easier to get through if you didn’t cause any trouble, didn’t make too many waves, didn’t call too much attention to yourself.

The Taliban had taught him, though, that there were exceptions to every rule. Sometimes, you just had to do what needed to be done, and to hell with civilisation’s rules.

He’d never had the opportunity to balance the scales for his friends in the Korengal. They’d all been too busy trying to survive.

And there’d been no chance to avenge Nuzo in the way that he wished he could have.

But here, now, he had the opportunity. And the man who’d caused all the trouble was right in front of him. Laughing.

Rick took one step forward, one deliberate pace.

Then another.

He reached under his shirt and pulled out his gun, aiming it directly between Roger Hull’s eyes.

Roger Hull stopped laughing. He stared at Rick, eyes puzzled as he tried to figure out what was happening.

Distantly, beyond his focus on the man in front of him, Rick could hear the chime of an elevator arriving on the floor.

“You see,” Rick spoke, softly now, “you’ve hurt my brother. And by extension, me. And our other brother. And our sister.”

He heard a quiet gasp behind him, and realised that Higgins must have been the other set of footsteps he’d heard in the stairwell.

“And for that, you should be punished. But handing you over to the police will only get you a comfortable cell, with a decent bed and decent food. Endless appeals. Possibly even parole, one day.”

Rick took another step forward, relishing the frozen fear on Roger Hull’s face.

“I think that’s better than you deserve. I don’t think you deserve to live.” Rick’s tone was conversational, and he could see the moment that Hull snapped. He enjoyed it.

“You think you can kill me?” The false bravado in Hull’s voice raised a smile on Rick’s face.

“I know I can.” Rick was nonchalant, his tone matter of fact. “I was a sniper. I am a sniper. And I always hit my target.”

Rick froze then, his aim perfect and rock steady.

He could hear a nurse who sounded like Annie on the phone at the nurses’ desk, her voice urgent. He could hear Juliet’s quiet breathing behind him.

He waited for a long moment, then smiled as Hull’s composure cracked. The man turned tail and ran, heading for the elevator at the far end of the hallway.

Thursday  
Evening, 21:05

Detective Gordon Katsumoto was seriously considering finding a therapist. He just couldn’t figure out how he’d ended up neck-deep in yet another case involving Magnum and his friends. The more he tried to avoid the man, the more he seemed to run into him.

He was still furious about the whole Hannah affair. It didn’t help that he’d done some very quiet and totally off-the-books digging into the whole trip to Myanmar. He’d found out that Magnum and Higgins had both called in military backup and that, in spite of how things looked, the whole operation had actually been rather well planned.

He could even see how Magnum had actually been protecting him and his position at the police department.

But that still didn’t make it right to keep him in the dark. To make him think that he wasn’t good enough to offer any useful help.

Who was he kidding? He knew, as surely as dark follows light, and light follows dark, that he was going to forgive that insufferable private detective. If he were being honest with himself, he already had. But that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for the other man. He was going to make him work for his official forgiveness.

He sighed as he waited for the elevator to get to the fifth floor.

When Magnum and his friends had taken off for the hospital, he’d been inclined to let them go. At least, that way, they were out of his way and away from his crime scene. But then he’d thought about everything he’d ever heard about Roger Hull. Most of it less than good. Some of it downright worrying. And his conscience wouldn’t leave him alone.

So not five minutes after the Range Rover had shot off down the road, he’d been in his own car, following the same road.

He’d arrived at the hospital just in time to see Higgins entering the hospital. She’d been heading from the far side of the lot, which made no sense when he could see the Range Rover parked in front of the door. So he’d parked his car and headed over to the far side of the parking lot, only to find a black SUV with four flat tyres. He could only grin at the ingenuity.

He’d made a quick call, then he’d headed inside as well. He’d been in luck, as an elevator had arrived at the ground floor right then. Now he was on his way to the fifth floor, his foot tapping impatiently during the slow ascent.

Moments later, the elevator chimed for the fifth floor and the door slid open. He stepped halfway out and froze at the sight before him.

Rick Wright was standing at the far end of the hallway, attention focused on Roger Hull. Along with his gun, which seemed to be centred on Hull’s forehead. Higgins was motionless behind Rick.

Katsumoto took one silent step forward, easing his own gun out of its holster and slipping off the safety. He didn’t want to shoot Rick, but he would if he had to. The last thing he wanted to do was arrest another one of Magnum’s friends; two in one day would be far too much to deal with. He’d rather shoot Rick first. He aimed for Rick’s leg and held steady.

Then he heard what Rick was saying, and was mildly shocked to find that he actually agreed with the other man. Prison would be so much better than what Hull deserved. But he’d taken an oath, and letting Rick serve justice wasn’t something he could allow.

He raised his own gun slightly, and was about to call out to Hull. But then Hull spun around and ran. Clearly, Rick’s promises had been more than he could handle.

Katsumoto couldn’t fight the smile on his own face as Hull stumbled to a halt in front of him.

“Roger Hull, you’re under arrest.” Katsumoto kept the enjoyment out of his voice, though it was difficult. “For robbery, murder, attempted murder.”

Hull stared at him for a long moment, then glanced back towards Rick. Then he raised his hands and offered his wrists to Katsumoto.

“He threatened me.” Hull’s voice shook slightly. “You heard him. You saw him point that gun at me.”

Katsumoto took his time getting his cuffs out, while he thought about what the ex-cop had said. Sure, Hull was technically correct. But Katsumoto’s eyes were sharp enough to see, now that he’d had the time to look closely, that Rick’s gun still had the safety on. And it wasn’t possible to shoot someone with the safety on.

There was also no law against scaring criminals out of their wits. Good thing too, because he’d really enjoyed watching that stand-off play out. Deep down, Katsumoto could also admit to himself that he’d enjoyed watching Roger Hull get a taste of his own medicine.

“I didn’t see anything. Or hear anything.” Katsumoto reached out to place the cuffs around Hulls’ wrists. “I just got here.”

The detective fastened the cuffs securely, then motioned to the police officer outside TC’s room. When the officer arrived, Katsumoto handed his prisoner over and instructed the officer to take Roger Hull to the station and book him.

Rick watched the whole process, eyes never leaving Roger Hull’s form. The promise of vengeance in that gaze made Katsumoto glad that he’d never actually managed to get on the wrong side of Rick Wright. There was clearly a lot more to the man than he let the world see.

When the officer had herded Roger Hull into the lift and the doors had closed behind Katsumoto, Rick lowered his gun and tucked it back under his shirt.

Then everyone’s attention was riveted to the yell from TC’s room.

“Annie! Help!” Magnum sounded more panicked than Katsumoto had ever heard the man. To be honest, after all he’d learned about the man and his past in the last year, he hadn’t been sure that there was anything left in the world that could make Magnum panic at all. But the next words made it clear that some things could still rattle the veteran.

“We’re losing TC!”

MPI-MPI-MPI


	9. Chapter 9

Thursday  
Evening, 21:20

Magnum was hanging on to TC’s lax hand with every bit of strength and will he had in him. The other man’s breathing had slowly dangerously, and Magnum worried that each breath would be the last. That was bad enough, but now it was clear that TC’s skin was cooling as well, indicating that his circulation was shutting down as well.

Whatever was wrong was getting worse.

Magnum wished there was something physical he could fight to help TC, an enemy he could face off against. He wished that it were him in that hospital bed, rather than his friend, his brother.

He looked up as Rick and Higgins rushed into the room, seeing them pull up short at the sight of TC. He locked eyes with Rick and could see his own panic reflected there. They were losing TC.

This was what they’d all feared in the Korengal; losing a member of their tiny chosen family. A shocked gasp caught his attention. He pulled his gaze away from Rick and glanced at Higgins, knowing that she had made that horrified sound. She would know just how badly TC had deteriorated since they’d seen him early that morning.

“Thomas, what’s happening?” Rick demanded, going white when Magnum shook his head in despair.

“I don’t know, Rick.” He hated the not knowing, not having even the smallest clue to go on. “Annie said she was calling Doc Milford. She says all the readings are wrong, too low, but she doesn’t know why. And they’re just getting worse.”

“It has to be Hull.” Higgins sounded cool and calm, and Magnum was about to turn on her when he got a good look at her face. She looked like she was barely hanging on to her composure by her fingernails. The same way he felt.

“But what? How?” Magnum was frustrated and angry.

“TC’s not bleeding.” Rick murmured. “That’s something.”

“I guess. But what then?” Magnum shot back.

He looked across at Higgins, seeing her clasping her arms across herself, then shoving her hands into her pockets to stop the fidgeting. He loved her for trying to hide her fear, but he had more than enough to go around at the moment.

He saw the moment her attention shifted, and then she dug her right hand deeper into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small, shiny object.

She rolled it over in her fingers, then squinted at the tiny print on the label. A spark of hope lit her face and she turned towards the door, nearly running into Katsumoto.

The detective had obviously followed her into the room, standing quietly just inside the doorway and watching them all.

Right at the moment, Magnum didn’t care what the detective did or where he went. That was a concern for another time. He was about to ask Higgins what she’d thought of, but she raised her voice instead.

“Annie. Come and look at this!”

Higgins pulled the door open just as Annie arrived, and the young nurse turned immediately to Higgins.

“That man dropped this in the stairwell.” Higgins offered the vial to Annie.

The young nurse flipped her hair back and skimmed her eyes down the label with a quick glance.

Without hesitating, she spun around to leave the room.

“Annie?” Magnum questioned.

“I know what’s wrong.” Annie called back as she rushed out of the room. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Magnum looked at Rick and Higgins, seeing his own confusion reflected on their faces.

“And?”

“No idea.” Rick shrugged.

“Maybe” Higgins offered quietly. “I think Hull injected TC with the contents of that vial.”

“What was it?” Magnum dreaded the possible answers, but he had to know.

“I’m not completely sure, but I think it’s a derivative of morphine.” Higgins was subdued.

“That would lower all the readings, shut down his body.” Katsumoto’s voice was steady from the doorway.

The detective shrugged when Magnum shot him a glare.

“Not saying it doesn’t actually help anything.” Katsumoto answered the glare. “I don’t like it either, but it’s true.”

Magnum wanted to yell at the man for being so cold, but Rick shook his head and lifted one eyebrow in a silent question. He took Rick’s silent advice and looked at Katsumoto again, this time seeing the well-hidden concern in the detective’s dark eyes.

Katsumoto held his gaze for a moment, then looked away, deliberately pulling out his phone so that he’d have something else to look at, instead of TC and his friends.

Annie shot back into the room, another vial and syringe in her hands. She headed immediately for TC’s IV line, checking that the tubing was undamaged. Seeing that it was intact, she drew the contents of the vial into the syringe and injected it directly into the same port Roger Hull had used earlier.

She watched the flow rate for a moment, then turned to speak to Magnum.

“Your friend was given a morphine overdose.” She indicated the vial that Higgins still held. “I’ve just given him a dose of Naloxone to counteract the effects.”

“Naloxone?” Magnum questioned.

“Yes. You might have heard of it as Narcan.” Annie smiled as the people in the room all smiled in recognition. “It will reverse the effects of the morphine.”

She looked over at the readings on the monitor next to TC and carried on calmly.

“I’m not sure how much he was given, so we’ll have to keep a close eye on him in case he needs another dose.”

“But he’ll be okay?” Magnum asked, hating the fact that his voice sounded so unsure.

“He should be fine.” Annie reassured him with a smile. “Honestly, we caught this really early, thanks to all of you. And he got the right treatment, and he’s in the right place for us to keep an eye on him.”

Magnum felt the first hint of relaxation in his muscles, the first easing of the tension in his shoulders.

He heard Rick sigh and could see the same growing ease in the other man’s stance. And Juliet suddenly seemed like a different person, eyes warmer and more relaxed. To anyone who didn’t know his friends, the differences were subtle, but to him, they were as obvious as the fact that he was standing next to TC’s bed.

He glanced across at Katsumoto and saw a definite flash of relief on the man’s face. But then Katsumoto stared at the phone he was still holding, and anger rose up to shove the relief out of the way.

“Jail is too good for that man.” The words were a quiet mutter, but fell loudly into the quiet room.

“Come again?” Rick swung around to stare at Katsumoto, clearly surprised to hear that sentiment from a police officer.

Katsumoto simply came to the bedside and dropped his phone on the blanket next to TC’s knee. Without another word, he dug his handcuff keys out of his pocket and unlocked the cuff around TC’s left wrist. He detached the second cuff from the bed rail, then dropped the cuffs and the keys back in his pocket.

“Katsumoto?” Magnum asked the question carefully, wary of the rage in the other man’s eyes. “What’s going on?”

“TC is no longer under arrest.” Katsumoto stared at the man in the bed for a moment, then sighed heavily. Magnum watched closely as the detective forced himself to relax. Katsumoto rubbed both hands hard over his eyes and sighed again.

Magnum shared a look with his friends, all of them clearly wondering the same thing. What on earth had Katsumoto seen on his phone to cause this reaction?

“Why not?” Higgins asked.

Long moments later, the detective picked up his phone again and tapped a few times on the screen. He pulled the bedside table closer and propped the phone up so that the screen was visible to everyone in the room.

“Watch this. It’s the textbook definition of ‘under duress’.” Katsumoto’s voice was calm and Magnum could hear how the other man was reaching for some level of impartiality. And failing.

They all crowded closer and watched as the video played out on the tiny screen. The video consisted of four shorter clips, spliced together into a single file.

The first clip showed the Range Rover, with the Robin-6 plate number clearly visible. And it showed an explosive device being attached to the chassis, right where Magnum had found it that afternoon. The second clip showed the same process being carried out on the Ferrari, while the third and fourth showed Rick’s car and TC’s van.

“Where did you get these?” Higgins asked the question that Magnum just couldn’t voice, his mind still stuck on trying to process what TC had been dealing with when he’d flown that helicopter. He knew now why TC hadn’t called any of them for help, but knowing it didn’t make the hurt he felt on TC’s behalf any less.

“TC.” Rick murmured. “Oh, buddy, what a dreadful thing to see.”

“The crime scene guys have been through the bag Roger Hull left in the SUV outside. These videos were on a tablet in the bag. They sent them on to me.” Katsumoto explained.

The detective gave them all a searching look, and continued.

“And before you ask, I spotted that SUV in the parking lot when I got here and called it in as suspicious.”

“How could you be sure?” Juliet’s question sounded innocent, but Magnum caught an underlying tone of suppressed amusement and turned a sharp glance on her.

“I wasn’t.” Katsumoto’s answer was dry. “But the four flat tyres were a really obvious clue.”

Rick’s snort of laughter set off a wave of chuckles from Magnum and Higgins as well. Magnum tipped his head to Higgins in thanks.

“Nice job, Juliet.” Magnum smiled. “TC would agree.”

“My pleasure.” She smiled back at him and ducked her head for a second. He could have sworn her cheeks went slightly pink, and he wondered just how alone she’d been since leaving MI6.

They’d been idiots to let her go, no matter what she’d done while hunting down Richard’s killer. He really hoped that she’d accept his invitation to be partners, because he would hate to lose all the good things she’d brought into his life.

He was probably happier now than he’d been since escaping the Korengal, odd as that might seem. He lost so much in those eighteen months, starting with his mother and any real home, along with any sense of security and family roots. He’d managed to find those roots again, here in sunny Hawaii, with his friends.

And while the move to Hawaii and his chosen family were responsible for a large part of the contentment he’d managed to find, there was a part of his happiness that was tied inextricably to the blonde woman in front of him.

She nagged and teased, she insulted, and she owned the two hellhounds that made his life more interesting every day. He loved all of it, even the dogs, although he had no plans to ever admit it. But she was also honest and loyal, smart and funny, and as dangerous as a honed blade. And she deserved so much better than the treatment given to her by MI6.

So he was keeping his fingers crossed that she would choose to be his partner. Life would be so much better for him, for Rick and TC as well, if she agreed.

He looked away from her then, looking at TC again, hoping to see an improvement. It looked as though TC was more peaceful, his breathing easier, less slow and laboured. Or maybe he was just kidding himself. He took hold of TC’s hand again, the gentle grip on TC’s warming skin reassuring him that perhaps things were looking up.

“He’s looking a little better, don’t you think?” Higgins asked, moving closer to the bed.

“I thought maybe I was kidding myself.” Magnum admitted.

“No.” Higgins shook her head. “He really is looking better than when we came in here. Not as good as he looked this morning, but better than ten minutes ago.”

Rick moved up next to them, looking down at TC as well. He reached out and laid a hand on TC’s arm.

“Come on, TC. Wake up for us, please.” Rick’s voice was a whisper.

Magnum moved closer to Rick, seeing Higgins mirror the movement on Rick’s other side. He laid an arm across Rick’s shoulders, pulling his brother in closer to offer comfort. He felt Higgins wrap her arm around Rick’s waist, then saw her rest her other hand on TC’s shoulder. Uniting the three of them at TC’s side.

Katsumoto picked up his phone from the table, shutting down the video and slipping the device into his jacket pocket. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, then shook his head slightly.

“I’m going to go.” Katsumoto spoke quietly. “There’s going to be a blizzard of paperwork from this one.”

Magnum nodded, flicked a glance at his friends and answered, just as quietly.

“Thank you. For taking off the handcuffs. For not making him wait until it’s official.” Magnum knew Katsumoto was pre-empting process for TC. “We appreciate it.”

Katsumoto tilted his head to the side for a moment, and Magnum held himself still and let the detective observe them all.

“I was just doing what’s right.” Katsumoto indicated TC’s left wrist. “Now I don’t have to come back and take them off in the morning. Although, I will have to come back for a statement at some point.”

“And we’ll all be available whenever you need us.” Higgins promised, voice certain.

Magnum nodded, feeling Rick nod in agreement as well.

Katsumoto nodded in acknowledgement and turned to leave. He turned back almost immediately, clearly worrying at some thought.

“I just wondered …” he started, then shook his head. “Never mind. It’ll all be in his statement, I suppose.”

“What?” Magnum asked.

“Why?” Katsumoto asked, getting the word out like he suddenly couldn’t wait another second for an answer. “Why not just tell me the truth this morning? Why refuse to speak to me? Why refuse to speak to any of you?”

“Because they come first.”

The faint voice from the bed, so unlike TC’s usual strong tone, had them all pushing as close as possible to the bed.

“TC.” Rick breathed out a sigh of gratitude.

Magnum tightened his grip on TC’s hand and let himself believe that things were finally getting back on an even keel. He looked up to see the huge, happy smile on Juliet’s face, and felt himself grin happily in return.

“Care to explain?” Katsumoto’s question was brusque, but his tone was gentle.

“I thought I was imagining being followed. Paranoid. You know.” TC offered the words to Magnum and Rick. The two men shared a glance, with Rick lifting one shoulder a bit. “I was planning to tell you both last night.”

Magnum squeezed TC’s hand, seeing how Rick’s fingers pressed more firmly on TC’s arm. They both knew how long it had taken, after their escape, for TC to realise – and truly believe – that everyone wasn’t always watching him.

“Next time, tell us sooner.” Magnum answered quietly.

“It’s not paranoid if they really are out to get you.” Rick added, the undertone of humour taking the sting out of his words.

TC rolled his eyes slightly at that, then turned his gaze to Katsumoto.

“I didn’t know who he was, what else he’d done.” TC’s answer made it clear that he’d been aware of the conversation going on around him for the last while.

TC rolled his head to the side then, the motion making clear that he’d given the detective the only explanation he was willing to give right then. He settled his gaze on his family. His words were slow and quiet, as if every syllable was a massive effort. “And they come first.”

“Never.” Magnum murmured.

“Always.” Rick added on.

“Now.” Higgins whispered.

Magnum saw TC’s eyes widen slightly when he realised that she knew what the words meant. He caught TC’s eye and tipped his head, nodding when TC smiled at him before looking at Higgins and nodding.

“Come again?” Katsumoto broke the moment in confusion.

“I’m tired.” TC said slowly, his eyes falling shut again.

“He was protecting us.” Juliet’s quiet answer to Katsumoto overlapped TC’s words.

“And you will be tired for a while.” Doctor Milford’s voice cut through the room, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Doc Milford.” Magnum turned his head to smile at the man, not willing to let go of TC long enough to turn around to face the man.

Milford smiled in acknowledgement of that, and walked around to the other side of the bed so that he could face them all. A patient chart hung from his fingers and he put it on the table at the side of the bed and turned to the man in the bed.

“TC? Can you hear me?” Milford’s voice was quiet but insistent.

Magnum could see the struggle as TC forced his eyes open again.

“Yeah, Doc.” The words were still slow.

“Good, good.” Milford waited until TC was looking right at him. “You were given a morphine overdose.”

The heart monitor showed the effect that those words had on TC, the beeping sound speeding up sharply.

Milford leaned forward to make sure TC was focused on his next words.

“You’re okay.” When the monitor didn’t slow, Milford looked at Magnum, then Rick and Higgins, before he shook his head, sighing gently. “Just like you. All of you.”

“Your friends are fine, TC. They’re all fine, and safe.” The monitor slowed and Milford carried on. “The man who did it has been arrested. Right, Detective?” He aimed the last question at Katsumoto and waited until the man answered.

“He has. He’s on his way to jail right now.” Katsumoto confirmed it, then added another comment. “The other two guys from the helicopter are here for treatment now as well, and they’ll be arrested as soon as they’re out of surgery.”

“See? So you can just relax now.” Milford looked over at the heart monitor, seeing the gradual slowing of the rate. The doctor watched until the monitor settled into a steady, if somewhat slow, rhythm, then checked the rest of the readings. Finally done, he nodded once and made some notes on the chart.

“You should be out of here in a day, maybe two, TC.” His tone was relaxed, unconcerned, and Magnum felt the weight of worry simply drop off his shoulders at the words.

Rick sighed deeply next to him, and Higgins shifted slightly to check out the monitors herself.

“He will be?” Her question wasn’t really doubting, Magnum knew, but rather from the same need for confirmation they all shared. They looked at TC, who seemed to have drifted off to sleep again, his face peaceful now.

“I don’t see why not.” Milford met their stares with a smile. “We’ll monitor him carefully for the rest of tonight and tomorrow for any other possible side effects from the overdose, but Annie treated it quickly – thanks to you I believe.” He tipped his head towards Higgins, who dropped her eyes and nodded.

“If he’d had to wait for treatment, I’d be more worried, but in this case,” Milford scanned the monitors again, an instinctive motion, “I don’t foresee any further issues.”

“What does he need now?” Magnum asked, seeing Rick shift his attention fully to Milford as well.

“Right now, just sleep. A lot of it.” Milford answered. “We’ll keep a very close eye on all the readings for tonight. Annie will be in every half hour, and if anything changes, we’ll know long before it becomes a problem. But I don’t think there will be any issues at all.”

“We’re staying.” Rick’s statement wasn’t open for discussion.

“Actually, I’m not.” Katsumoto broke in. “I’m heading back to the precinct to start on the paperwork for this. I will make sure that there’s no chance of Hull using any sort of technicality in his favour.”

Magnum met the detective’s eyes then, and saw nothing there but honest concern about TC and the case. At least his actions hadn’t prejudiced the man against all his friends. Then he reconsidered that thought. Katsumoto would never let his anger at Magnum influence his work. He was too good a man, and too honest a police officer, for that to ever happen.

“Thank you, Katsumoto.” Magnum dipped his head in a gesture of thanks.

“Yes, Detective. Thank you. We do appreciate it.” Higgins added her thanks and Rick nodded in agreement.

“I will need statements from all of you tomorrow.” Katsumoto looked at Higgins then, and added a slightly acerbic observation. “I expect that they’ll all be very informative, especially about some rather useful video footage.”

Magnum managed to cover his snort of laughter with a cough, but Rick just laughed outright. Higgins managed to look unamused while her eyes danced with suppressed laughter.

“Quite.” Her answer was equally dry.

Katsumoto left then, a hint of a grin growing on his face as the door closed behind him.

Magnum turned back to face Milford, seeing the slight confusion on the doctor’s face. The doctor gave him a long, hard, look then smiled and shook his head.

“I’m sure I don’t want to know.” He raised the chart slightly. “I’ve made a note that you can all stay the night if you really want to. TC will be fine, though, so it’s truly not medically necessary.”

Magnum shared a look with Rick and Higgins, meeting steady eyes from Rick and a slightly raised eyebrow from Higgins. He lifted one shoulder in a minute shrug, and turned back to Milford.

“Not medically necessary, doc. We know that, but …”

Milford simply smiled and nodded. He collected the clipboard and walked around the bed again, heading for the door.

“Doc.” Magnum’s voice had Milford turning around again. “Thank you. For everything you did. Here, this morning. Tonight. What you told us this afternoon.” The words carried every ounce of conviction he could pack them with, and Magnum hoped that Milford could see how deeply he appreciated the man’s help today.

“What did you tell them?” TC was awake again, eyes squinted at Milford, his question pointed. “I told you not to call them.”

“You did.” Milford agreed blandly. “But telling them was the right thing to do. The only thing I could do.”

TC moved his head slightly on the pillow, obviously trying to shake it.

“Now, you all get yourselves settled.” Milford addressed his next words to Rick. “I’m sure you know where to find some extra chairs.”

“I do.” Rick grinned. “And Annie may have mentioned where to find the nurses’ breakroom, with the decent coffee.”

Milford just shook his head with a smile. He left the room then, tossing one final comment over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him.

“And by the way, TC, I didn’t call them. But you never said I couldn’t send them a text message.”

Magnum couldn’t help but laugh at the look on TC’s face.

“Damn.” TC’s mutter was quiet. “He’s as devious as you lot.”

He shook his head before giving in and laughing as well, with Rick and Higgins joining in.

Magnum took in the sight of his friends, all together, all safe, all healthy. Laughing and happy. And knew that right now, at this moment, his world couldn’t get any better.

FIN


End file.
